Pokemon: The Legend Of Volraith
by Ajay46
Summary: Three months ago - i discovered human evolution. The blood of a dead lucario... that's all it takes... By now, I don't know how many Lucarios have been killed thanks to my discovery. I don't know how much blood there is on my hands. And only now I realise… maybe humans weren't supposed to evolve.
1. Going in Blind

Chapter one (prologue)

Going in Blind

Have you ever run for your life?

When you glanced over your shoulder – did you see death itself on your heels? When you looked ahead – how distant was freedom? How far did you have to run?

I hear nothing outside my own feet pounding back and forth through the stairwell and the frantic panting of my breath, hot across my face and scalding my throat. Everything else I drown out in my head, playing music through my head to urge myself on, mouthing the chorus at double-speed and screaming at myself just to run faster. To keep going without a clue of where I'm headed.

_Time after time – I'm going in blind – I don't know which way I need to go._

I don't hear the footsteps behind me, but I feel them. The entire structure seems to shake and vibrate as we all charge up the stairs. Onwards and upwards. My fingers hover above the guardrail on my left, ready to clamp down should I fall or stumble. At the next corner where the stairs flatten out, I grab the rail tight, and swing around as fast as I can, launching myself up the next flight of steps, kicked by adrenaline.

"Cover the next stairwell! Don't let him escape!"

I throw a hiss over my shoulder as I round the next corner – but I turn ahead and dash on. No time for petty scorn or anger – this is life or death. Life ahead of me, death behind me, though, both seem to be moving forwards at the same speed as me. While I'm not falling into the embrace of the latter, I'm not making any ground on the former.

Fluorescent lighting rolls past over my head. Light by light, three on each flight blinking past at the top of my vision. It's so repetitive by now, I've stopped noticing it.

My heart leaps as I spot something ahead. A door. I have to make a decision. Keep going up or take the door? No – up. The higher the better. I can use height to my advantage. I speed past the doorway – glancing once more at it as I pass – and shooto around the next corner.

**Crap!** I stumble forwards and grab the guardrail, ralling to one knee. I plant a foot against the step in front of me and launch myself backwards onto the landing just as a thunder wave ripples through the stale air. It strikes right where I fell – missing me barely.

"Buzz!" The electabuzz throws its hefty frame down the steps in pursuit, charging another. They don't want to hurt me. They want to paralyze me. Keep my alive to dissect me later.

I run for the door again – thank god for it being there. Instead of using the knob, I take a faster approach and run straight into it, dropping my shoulder. The wood around the door's lock shatters as I smash into it, and its hinges rip free of the wood as I bowl through. I get about a millisecond to identify the room as an office floor – full of cubicles. I catch myself as I trip, and grab the falling door as I barge through, and I spin and throw it between us.

The door shields me from the next thunder wave, absorbing the impact.

Offensive now – I can't have him paralyze me and leave me helpless. I charge towards the door as it lands upright, and slowly begins falling towards him. I drop my shoulder again, and smash into it. the door – with a little help from my shoulder – smashes forwards into the incoming electabuzz. His arms come up to block his body, but I lift my arms and smash them down on the top of the door as it tilts, and smash the top down on his head.

As the Pokémon stumbles back and the door falls, I run at him again – ignoring the screaming office staff around me – charging a black lump of energy in my palm. Shadowy tendrils curl from my palm and coil around my fingers and hand, down to my wrist. Wavering, shadowy energy like tongues of corrupted, wraithlike flame. I land a solid shadow punch in the stomach, knocking him into a cubicle behind him.

Then – I spin and run as more Pokémon and men in black spill from the stairway behind me. I charge straight down the centre path between the cubicles, shooting towards the far wall. A giant, blue-tinted glass wall spanning the width of entire floor.

An unfortunate worker decides to dash across the path in front of me, clinging to an armful of paperwork. Perfect. I make a quick step forwards and intercept him, swinging my arm up under his armful as I shoot in front of him and knocking the entire pile into the air. The pages explode like a grenade, filling the air between me and my pursuers as the employee scrambles away to his destination with a yelp.

I plant my right foot on the ground ahead of me and turn against it, skidding to a stop and facing the shroud with a grimace. The paper floats and scatters about in the air as the air conditioning unit above irritates them, throwing them all around as they're trapped in an air pocket. The guy was carrying so much paper, I can't see anything through the mess. But that also means that they can't either.

A Blaziken bursts through the paper – arm up to cover his eyes from the sharp little sheets. I dash forwards with a silent roar and swing a brutal surprise uppercut into his chin before he can lower his arm and see me. As the Pokémon staggers back, I deliver a nasty kick below the belt, then another uppercut as he doubles over – knocking him flat on the ground.

As the next burst through – a Mightyena and a Raichu – I take them both out as they trip on the Blaziken. A hard kick to the Mighyena's gut incapacitates him for a moment, while a shadow uppercut to the face dispatches the Raichu.

I spin around and dash for the window again after that – the paper in beginning to settle and they can see me again. Need more distractions…

I lower myself a little as I sprint, and I drag my knuckles against the carpet. My hand bursts into flame, like a lit match – but a burning little pale. I clap my hands together, igniting both, then swing both outwards into the next two cubicles. They immediately burst into flame as I hit them – lighting up brightly and briefly disturbing the accuracy of my pursuers – which is evident as a Thundershock bolt strikes the fluorescent light over my head – way off target. I glance over my shoulder just to check it's spreading.

Oh, is it spreading. Fear, panic, confusion – they're _all_ spreading. Smoke too – that's spreading. Its' not the fire I need to spread – it's everything else, seeing as the fire is actually an illusionary flame. A ghostly apparition of a flame, spewing a ghostly, hazy smoke into the air and nullifying the vision of those chasing me. In the panic, the office workers all charge across the centre path in their beeline for the fire exit – cutting off the Pokémon and men in black.

But I still need to escape – not just delay. I pick up a little speed as I charge for the window – I have to be moving fast for this to work – and I leap at it. As I hurtle towards the solid glass, I cling to that invincible "running feeling". That marvellous, wonderful feeling of air whipping past as you run. That amazing indestructible sense of momentum you get – like nothing can stop you. No obstacle can get in your path. You'll run, and keep running, and pass everything around you like it's standing still.

And that's how I perform my greatest feat. As my body makes contact with the window – I go pale. My body turns semi-transparent, my being suddenly becomes light as a feather, and I glide through the glass like it isn't even there. Phased. Which is good – because they'll have no idea where I am. Smoke blocking their vision, no damage in the window – they'll be stumped.

The world emerges around me as I soar out the window and into the urban skies. Skyscrapers all around, apartments, malls – I'm amidst it all, and just floating away from the building behind me as if I weight nothing.

But all good things come to an end. I gasp and clutch my stomach at about ten metres distance – feeling a massive draw on my energy levels. My body phases in again, and I begin falling.

I let it slip in my shock. "Vol!" **Shit! Don't say that!** I kick myself, suddenly more concerned about my speech than the ground approaching below me. **Right! Ground! Shit… think…** below me is a mall. Right in the centre, right below me I think, is a big glass roof. Underneath that, tiny specks of people hustle and bustle about like ants, up and down their escalators. That's my landing zone.

Glass roof and the floor beneath that. That's two impacts… **Can I survive two impacts?** I ask myself – but not as uncomfortably as I would have expected of myself. I can think of another solution. Even now I can feel my energy level regenerating rapidly. No problem.

Plan B. I draw both arms back to my sides, and I charge another black lump of energy between them. This time the lump isn't in contact with my. It hovers between my hands as it grows, forming to just over the size of a tennis ball. It doesn't have to be excessively strong – just enough will do.

I hurl the shadow ball down – accidentally uttering another "Vol!" as I fire. The ball shoots away quickly – being weightless – and straight for the fast-approaching roof. It strikes in the centre of the framing, where the four pieces of glass meet. The explosion is enough to shatter all four panes as the shockwave spreads across them, totally destroying them. Just seeing them shatter everywhere gives me a burst of strength. The beautiful, rich sound of an explosion rocking the air, then the sweet, melodious tinkle of shattering – it's rejuvenating.

I tilt my body so I'm falling head-first, and watch the approaching building very carefully, judging. This move takes a lot out of me so I have to time it precisely.

Now.

"Raith!" **Protect!** I clench my eyes shut.

I feel nothing after the impact. That's the idea of protect – to feel nothing. An ultimate failsafe. Though – I close my eyes too so I see nothing. That's so I don't crap myself – thinking I'm about to splatter across the ground after falling hundreds of metres.

After six seconds – which I deem safe – I release the field encasing my body. It's a weird feeling since I can't actually feel gravity even while encased. My body goes rigid and I can't move or hear. I could see if I left my eyes open – but I'd probably get dizzy.

I slide back onto my knees as I find myself on my stomach. I cringe as shattered glass digs into my knees and palms, but I have more to worry about than a little blood. It'll take more than that to kill me.

Everyone's staring at me. The shoppers have retreated away from me to a safe distance and gape at me, whispering frantically to one another. Pointing at the "freak" as I hear from a few.

I try to ignore them, and I stand up so I'm not kneeling on glass. The escalator is smashed to hell. In the centre there's one huge dent where I must have landed, and all along the glass sides are smashed and shattered. I see one man sitting at the bottom of it. his head's covered in blood, but he's still alive. Unlucky enough to be on the escalator when I hit, but lucky enough not to be right under my point of impact.

I grin stupidly as I glance around – realising what I've just done. I've escaped the feds. I've _fought_ them, _outwitted _them, and _escaped_! I'm legendary!

"Is there…" I raise one hand, wheezing to a stop as my breath runs dry. I tilt my head back, and revel in a long, sweet breath of fresh air. "Is there a doctor in the house…?" I raise my hands, still grinning, and I show them all my bloody palms.

"Oh yes."

The voice. _Way_ too confident to be a random shopper. I turn to the man with a sudden sinking feeling.

"We have _lots _of doctors where we are going." His glasses glint darkly in the sun streaming through the roof. "I'm sure they'll _love_ to meet you." More men in black fan out from behind him, all releasing Pokémon as they go. I spin around quickly and search for another way out – but there are more behind me too. They have every exit sealed off and guarded.

Aside from being scared shitless, furious as hell and severely depressed that I haven't been as successful as I hoped – I fell pretty flattered. So many guys all dedicated to capturing _me._ Wow.

But mostly I'm scared shitless and furious – which is _not_ a good mind-set to be in when facing the feds.

"_Volraith…"_ I growl and back into the middle of the circle they've made around me. My fists burst open at my sides, pouring more energy into shadow balls – ready to fire.

"Don't make this more difficult than it has to be, Mr Chase." The man sighs and shakes his head as his men's Pokémon charge their various attacks, pointing at me. "Come along quietly and we won't hurt you. I promise."

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't believe you." I manage, a little more comprehensively than my previous reply. Still shaky, still on edge – I have to get out before I do something crazy…

"Tane, you're coming with us the easy way or the hard way." He states, quite definitely. "That choice is yours. You have ten seconds to decide – or we'll decide for you. Ten…"

**Shit!** I glance about as panic begins rising. "Nine…" **Shit! I can't beat all of them… But then again – I could maybe kill one or two**. "Eight…" **Take some of them out in spite? No… that's ridiculous. What would that achieve? **"Seven…" **Could I escape? But where would I go?** I'm vaguely aware of a rising sound somewhere in the background. "Six…" **They'd chase me home – they know where I live… run away?** "Five…" **But they'd hassle my family for my location…** "Four…" The noise is getting louder. **Could I get protection? From who? No one would help me, would they?** "Three…" **Shit, shit, shit! Why me? Why does this happen to **_**me?**_** This isn't my fault!** "Two…" The noise is suddenly loud now – coming from somewhere above. The lead agent glances up at the hole in the glass roof, but still counts. "One. Looks like we're-"

A shadow passes across us as the sun is blocked out. The agent stops mid-sentence and we all glance up at the ceiling. A helicopter. A black helicopter hovers over the hole I made in the ceiling, and slowly lowers. Hanging from a ladder underneath it is a single person. Red hair, black overcoat, and an exceptionally serious expression.

A small grin passes my face as I recognize the person. A similar grin passes over the agent's face too – and we both say it at the near-same time.

"Lance."

"Lance."

The other agents glance about – greatly perplexed by our pleasure. It's probably a mystery to them why we're both grinning.

"Don't smile kid." The agent suggests as Lance drops from his ladder. "You might have stood a chance of escaping earlier – but you're stuck now. Lance is the best." He lands the impact like it's nothing at the top of the escalator, and grabs a pokéball from his waist. He stops right at the top – and freezes.

"The fuck?" He growls. He grabs the pokéball from his waist and releases his Dragonite beside him as he hurries down the escalator. The Dragonite bears down on me with a hard stare for a moment – but then he recognises me.

"Nite?" He lifts himself off the top floor and glides to the bottom, landing alongside Lance. The circle of agents part for him, and they nod respectfully.

"Cancel your attacks." He growls as he stops between me and the outside of the circle.

"We already tried." The agent growls. "He won't list-"

"Not him!" Lance barks. "You and your men."

The agent stares for a moment – like he's been hit by lightning. "…Us?"

"You heard me." Lance nods. They both stare for a moment, but Lance's presence is overwhelming. The agent sighs, and raises his hand. On his command his men's Pokémon dispel their charged attacks, and lower their arms with confused mutters.

"He'll escape…" The agent protests.

"He won't." Lance strides towards me, sighing deeply. He stops in front of me and buries his forehead in one hand. "Tane… just… what…?"

"Idunno…" I whimper, shrugging miserably. My shadow balls fizzle out, and my arms hang limp at my sides. I'm not angry anymore – but I'm still a little scared. Still… what's going to happen…?

I jerk a little as I feel something touch me. Lance steps into me, and he wraps his arms around my back, pulling my head into his shoulder. "It'll be alright…" He whispers. "I'll take care of this."

"Kay." I sniff, nodding weakly.

He holds me for a few seconds, then takes his arms away and turns back to the lead agent. As I can see again, I note the looks of shock and confusion of the agents.

"He's coming with me." Lance states. My god, he's authoritive…

"But we're-"

"He's my _brother._" He growls and advances on the agent. "You are _not_ taking my brother into custody. I've seen how you fools work and I've seen your methods and I'll be _damned_ if you're doing that to him." I note the lead agent's face falling in shock and embarrassment.

Lance turns back to me. "Tane. You're coming with me. You're going to tell me _exactly_ what's going on here, and how this happened."

They say that Arceus is the forefather of everything. He created it all. His creations – Dialga and Palkia – then created existence. Time and space. Once time began to move and space filled the void, there were more. With space present – by unwritten law – matter was required. This matter took form as Groudon, Kyogre and Rayquaza. They created the earth. Land appeared in space, seas flowed from the bowels of this lump of rock, land rose from the seas, and an atmosphere surrounded the earth, and enclosed it. Mew, the father of the genome, then created more Pokémon. Mesprit, Uxie and Azelf – we assume they were created by Mew, especially with something unique – gave them personalities, and taught them emotions. That accounts for the universe, how it flows, the earth and Pokémon – but that leaves one major factor still to be accounted for. One factor that we still cannot understand…

Us.

**\/01R4!TH]****-****[N0!TU10\/3-R**

**Author's notes: (Skip if you don't give a crap. I won't hold it against you – it's just me droning on.)**

**I've taken on board a lot of information recently. Firstly – I sat for an hour and listened to a writer talking about writing. He said some things which I've heard often – so I've gone along with what he said. Writing from personal experience – because we write best what we know and feel.**

**Second – a website I visited. Turns out (apparently) writing in first-person perspective is a useful learning tool. Third person apparently removes any restrictions, but first person is the learning tool which improves your writing. Which is apparent if you take a look at Greg. Writing one series in third person. Just take a look at how quickly he's improved.**

**I also googled something I've always been bad with. Starts. The starts to my stories are often **_**ridiculously**_ **boring. Originally chapter two was going to open – but I decided a chase scene would be an awesome, action-packed, explosive way to start things. I'm happy I chose this direction.**

**Anyway – I'd appreciate any feedback. Whether you have something good to say, any suggestions, criticism or improvements I could make, any questions, or if you have the urge to shout something random like I often get. Fav if you're along for the ride.**

**( My trivector now is **

**1)-Lethal Vector. **

**2)-Original Into The Inferno (ITI).**

**And**

**3)-Legend of Volraith (LoV). )**


	2. Scars

Chapter two

Scars (Prologue – continued)

They say that Arceus is the forefather of everything. He created it all. His creations – Dialga and Palkia – then created existence. Time and space. Once time began to move and space filled the void, there were more. With space present – by unwritten law – matter was required. This matter took form as Groudon, Kyogre and Rayquaza. They created the earth. Land appeared in space, seas flowed from the bowels of this lump of rock, land rose from the seas, and an atmosphere surrounded the earth, and enclosed it. Mew, the father of the genome, then created more Pokémon. Mesprit, Uxie and Azelf – we assume they were created by Mew, especially with something unique – gave them personalities, and taught them emotions. That accounts for the universe, how it flows, the earth and Pokémon – but that leaves one major factor still to be accounted for. One factor that we still cannot understand…

Us.

Where did we come in? How did we come to be? By who's hand? If Mew created Pokémon, who created humans?

What are we? Unfortunately, I found the answer to that a couple of weeks ago:

Destruction…

And destruction is what we thrive on…

I wish I never learned. I wish I wasn't as foolhardy. I wish I had just run… but I can't now. I've started something, and now I'm left with a _bitch _of a mess to clean up…

The chopper blades toss up a gust below, flicking the ladder about beneath it. Lance simply grabs it and pulls it taut. It stops waving about.

"Put these on." He draws his hand free of his pocket. Sunglasses. Dark tint. Two pairs.

I reach my hand out and grab one, but give him a questioning glance.

"Watch." He slips his pair on – as do I – and turns around to face the agents down the bottom. The lead agent calls something loudly to the civilians – but his words are lost to me under the whirring chopper blades.

Like a precisely choreographed move, every agent reaches into his pocket, and draws out a pair of sunglasses too. Unfold left, unfold right, lift glasses with right hand to head, press bridge onto nose. Perfect unison in the move. The agent in the middle then reaches into his other pocket, and he draws out a small metal stick of some sort.

It flashes.

I shake my head quickly to rid myself of the glary flashing stinging my eyes. "What was that?" I watch the civilians as I speak. They all stumble about a little, like they're drunk. They stare at the place around them, occasionally shouting and gasping.

"Their memories have been erased." Lance explains, urging me up the ladder. I obey, and quickly scramble up to the chopper.

The interior makes it obvious – it's no military chopper. Bleached leather interior – all the way. There's heaps of legroom, soft lighting, a coffee table and even a mini-fridge at the back. _Definitely_ not military standard.

Lance climbs in behind me and pulls the door closed. "Take a seat." He ushers me to a seat on the far side, and falls into his own opposite me.

His elbows rest on his knees and his fingers form a bridge, supporting his chin as his head falls onto it with a deep sigh. "From the beginning." He says after a moment. As he speaks, the chopper tilts a little – taking off. "We have time. Start from the start. Give me some idea of what's going on here, and how this all started…"

_It all started when I lost my job at the petrol station…_

Fuck I hate Pokémon.

"You can't be serious!" My mouth falls. This can't be true! After _everything_ I've done!

His huge, cold hand lands on my shoulder. He sighs as he glances over his shoulder.

At the counter, a Lucario fiddles with a nametag attached to his shirt. "BP Oil. Hello, my name is THAMES." "Thames" slightly stylised, being a label stuck to the regular template nametag. I can still see the corner of the tag… the corner of another label pokes out from underneath. Underneath the "THAMES" label, is a "TANE" label. My label.

"I'm sorry, kid." The big man pats my shoulder softly as he turns back to me. His eyes glisten moistly – even he's having trouble dealing with this. "Government says I need at least _one _Lucario working. Even if I only have two employees hired. You know I can't fire my son… so, it's gotta be you…"

"B-but… I've been here for _two years!_" I protest. My mind boggles in confusion, and doesn't feed me the words I need to properly express my disapproval. "I worked over Christmas, for Arceus' sake! I stayed in late and cleaned up after-hours!"

He nods slowly. His patronising hand still pats my shoulder in a slow, rhythmic pattern. "I know you have." He says – he still isn't giving in. "And I greatly appreciate that. You've done a lot more than my lazy good-for-nothing boy… but he's still my son. But you're a good kid, so I know you'll find someone who'll give you a job."

My balled fists at my sides fall limp. My red, shaking fingers loosen their grip on my palm, and they hang. "So that's it, huh?" I step away and brush his hand away. "You're just throwing me out?"

"Don't make me look like the bad guy." He pleads as he moves for me again.

"Don't." I step back again – nearly bumping into a rack of candy bars – and hold up a hand to him. "I get it. You don't need me here anymore, just – just don't make excuses." I spin around and walk quickly towards the store entrance. My hands fly into my pockets, one wrapping tightly around a cheque stuffed into one. "So long."

"Tane – wait!" The doors slide open with a merry _ping _at the back of the shop, and I storm out onto the forecourt. "Tane! Stop!"

"I don't have to listen to you!" I spin around. He stops halfway out the sliding doors as my stare kills his willpower. "You're not my boss anymore, so I don't have to do anything!" I throw my head back and head for a bike parked against one petrol pump. I promptly throw my leg over and gun the engine before he reaches me.

"Please just let me-"

"No." I state. I twist the throttle and surge away from the petrol pump just as he nears me. I swing around onto the road without checking for traffic, and speed away to the south.

Fucking Pokémon.

_So… I wasn't having the best of days. Understandably. But I went back the next day and apologized. David's been a family friend for a while, and I wasn't going to let something as stupid as my job get in the way of that. I mean – I understood his decision. Doesn't mean that I like it, but I understand. So, I was a little calmer once I got that out of my system. David hooked me up with a few of his mates' numbers who were looking for workers, with his recommendation. As one door closed, another door opened, and I saw some golden opportunities in some of his contacts. David knew people all over the place – and so I set my eyes on a position at the day-care. I don't __**really**__ hate Pokémon, in fact I'm pretty good with them. (learned a lot from my brother) Their personalities are great, most Pokémon at the day-care are cheery, it seemed like a great opportunity – especially since I had always wanted to become a breeder. In fact, I pieced together the genetic composition of my younger brother's Blaziken a few years ago. When I was only thirteen. But anyway – day care. I like Pokémon, though, sometimes Lucarios __**piss me the fuck off**__… which is ironic, come to think of it… but anyway, back to my story. So I called up the day-care that day and arranged for an interview. Yeah, I was happy for a moment – though that moment was short lived. I had school the next day, and that's when the trouble __**really**__ started…_

Her eyes gleam, shining with absolute pleasure as she stalks between us. Through the north window, the streaming sunlight catches on the highly-polished barrel of a 44. Magnum, locked and loaded.

Her finger, pale and slender, teases the trigger with a disturbingly strong confidence, barrel upright and pointed to the roof. She strides again to the front of class, and she turns to us. Every one of us gets a good look down the barrel as it traces between us.

"This is a forty-four magnum." Her sweet voice is thick with mirth as she explains, revelling in our mixture of fear and joy. She lays the barrel across her other hand, rubbing a thumb along as she continues. "The forty-four magnum holds six rounds. I have loaded it… with _one_ round."

Suddenly, she starts towards us again. She glides between our desks with a merry hum, eyeing each of us for a second as we struggle not to burst into laughter. Her fingers still dance on the trigger, plucking the edge like the string of a violin. "Tell me class…" She spins. Her raven black hair sweeps out behind her and she pivots on a toe, suddenly swinging the gun around. The gun and her hair settle, the former on a boy my age sitting across from me. His face freezes in instinctive terror as the cold barrel rests on his forehead – the rest of us hold our breath. "if I was to pull the trigger…" Her voice takes an almost sing-song, innocently whimsical tune, "what chance is there that Irving here would survive?"

A small, quiet chortle rises from across the room somewhere, but nobody answers.

"Anyone?" She asks with a shrug, smiling to the rest of us. The boy still holds perfectly still, mind probably racing. "Nobody?"

We all know the answer. One in six chance – we just don't want to kill the atmosphere.

"A one-in-six chance, that Irving would die."

_Click._

Irving cringes – his eyes clench shut tightly as the teacher pulls the trigger.

"Irving is lucky." The teacher chuckles, lifting the barrel away again. She starts again with a thoughtful murmur. She stalks between us with the dark grace of an Absol. Gorgeous and shining, but grim and unsettling. She stops beside a girl my age. She smiles as terror sweeps the girl's face, like the boy before whose eyes are still clenched. "Amelia? Are you lucky?" She brings the gun up and snaps the trigger quickly this time.

_Click_

Another muffled chuckle as the teacher steps back. "It seems so." She turns around to face the rest of us. "That was a one in five chance. The further we go, the worse your luck."

And so she continues with her exceptionally dynamic teaching methods, stirring both fear and merriment with every pull of the trigger. After the girl, three more times she pulls.

"And so, we reach lucky last." Of course – she stops beside me. We all know this is the last bullet. A one-hundred-percent chance. I manage to smile faintly as the cold steel of the barrel stings my forehead. She smiles back, and cocks her head. "You're awfully happy for a boy who's about to die."

I sharpen my face – narrow my eyes, grit my teeth and stare at her, pulling my best "moment's notice" serious face. "You may strike me down…" I hiss, pressing forwards against the barrel, challenging her. "… You may kill me… But another will take my place!"

"Then they will die like you." She growls in return. Her finger tightens – pauses for a moment halfway through to see the last shed of light in my eyes before she puts it out – then fires.

_Bang!_

I swear, the entire class but me leaps halfway out of their seats. I overcome my own shakiness quickly, and manage to chuckle as the barrel leaves my head. "Crap. I'm dead." The teacher smiles, and she twirls the gun around her forefinger like a cowboy.

"How sad, too bad – never mind." She shoves the gun into her pocket, and continues to the front of the class. Drifting behind her, the sweet, aphrodisiac scent of Razzberries and gunpowder. Strangely – it's the gunpowder that turns me on. Chicks with guns… Arceus, I love that woman… Firing blanks at her class though – that's a first.

She continues to the front of class, where an Ambipom holds a whiteboard marker in each giant hand. "As you can see, class…" She takes one marker from her Pokémon and brings it to the board. "With each successive shot-"

We all spin towards the door as it creaks. The reinforced window blurs as the light distorts with the door's movement, and a hefty, bulky man strides in. The teacher quickly grabs the hem of her coat and pulls it over the gun in her pocket. To mask the save, she quickly brushes a hand through her hair and buttons the top button of her "Pokémon rangers" jacket. Seemingly, she's just preening herself for the newcomer. Very smooth of her. One more thing I love about my maths teacher.

"Ms Watson." The man rumbles as he steps inside, nodding stiffly. Ms Watson bobs her head quickly and clasps her hands together, replacing her naturally manic grin with a pleasant, polite smile. "You remember our discussion earlier last week?"

Ms Watson's smile twitches ever-so-slightly. I think only I notice – due to my tendency to focus so single-mindedly on her – but it twitches just for a moment. "I do." She nods.

Time seems to slow as she turns to me. As soon as her head starts moving, I know something's wrong. Her eyes don't move naturally. Instead of sweeping the room, checking every person, they jump straight to me. The look in her eyes – the one that only stalker-me can identify – sinks my heart. What follows the principal through the doorway only confirms it.

I nearly growl it aloud as I swing back to the door. **Lucario…** Hidden by my straight lips, my teeth grit as two of them enter the room, glancing about and looking rather lost.

"As dictated by the latest bill passed," The principle starts, speaking in his "I'm fucking important" voice, "every school is to include a quota of Lucario students, in accordance with DHAA's latest sentiency evaluations. Therefore, Aedrine and Thames will be joining you in Ms Watson's class."

I know what's about to happen next. I just… don't want to face it. "Tane?"

"Yeah?" I somehow manage to stay calm and casual, turning to Ms Watson as the low-point of my life looms, just seconds away.

Her face says it all. Sorry.

"We're already at maximum capacity in this room. Due to having the highest grades in this class, the other staff members and I have opted to transfer you and John Andrews to the advanced mathematics class."

**No…!**

_And so I was shifted up into advanced maths with Mr Bradcock. A grumpy old fart – god-awfully boring. He pretty much threw me straight in the deep end. He didn't even wait to see if I floated. He just threw me in, turned his back on me and let me drown in the massive workload that I still don't fully understand. I was torn from the gorgeous, awesome, fucking amazing teacher on whom I had a massive crush, and thrown hopelessly into the higher class to be eaten alive. And it was all that Lucarios fault. That same Lucario, Thames. The same one who took my job. It was all terrible for a while after that. I struggled with class, my bank balance declined gradually as I found my interview at the day-care constantly rescheduled. It was shit – but at least I had a few mates who stayed on my side…_

_Well, until that day that everything changed. You see – that Lucario. Thames. The one who took my job, took my teacher and class, took my entire livelihood… he pushed it a little bit too far. You see – Thames was actually an asshole…_

It-

"Tane…" Lance interrupts, "I meant how did _this_ start? You haven't even told me what's going on."

I sigh and lean back against the side of the chopper. I glance through the window behind me, looking over the cityscape passing by. Cars streaming across bridges, getting caught in gridlock and buzzing all around everywhere. Skyscrapers bordering the horizon, windows alight with activity. Jubilife. The biggest city in all of Sinnoh.

"I have powers." I say eventually, willing myself to turn and look him in the eye. He deserves a straight explanation. "I've evolved."

"So that's what I saw…" He murmurs. The shadow balls. He saw them. "You can create shadow balls?"

"I can do more." I hold up one hand. His eyes fixate on it as I sheath my arm to the elbow in darkness, as if readying another shadow punch. "And more." His eyes flick to my other arm as it raises, and it sheathes itself in a veil of flames. "And yet – more." I dispel each, and then bring both hands up. From the fingers down, a layer of black descends down my arm to my elbow. At the tips of my fingers, the skin parts as I feel my claws slide free. It's no longer painful – I've done it a number of times. The black covers both forearms – glimmering with tiny specks of white. They're like the night sky – black and starry. "Night slash." I explain. "I evolved into a Pokémon."

"I see…" He nods slowly. He's always been good at handling the unbelievable. "How? How did you… evolve?"

"I destroyed." I say coldly, pressing every syllable onto him forcefully. Even he feels it. it doesn't affect him, but he feels the menace I exude. "You felt that, didn't you? People feel weird things around me now."

"The Lucario." He realises. "This happened after you killed the Lucario."

"It did." I nod. "I remember the taste of his blood… it was rich… too rich. It's blood that does it."

"His blood gave you your power?"

"And more." I nod. "More Pokémon attacked me after the trial. Most people accepted that I killed him out of self-defence – but some Pokémon didn't like the verdict. They've attacked me – so I've killed them."

"Arceus…" He buries his head in his hand again. "How many…?"

I lift my hand to my head, and I strip away my beany. "You tell _me_."

He stares. He gapes and stares at my forehead. "VI. Six…" He shakes his head slowly. "Everything you kill… is counted on your forehead?"

"Yeah." I nod and slide my beany back on. I don't want him to stare. I don't want anyone to see it.

_My scars remind me that the past is real…_

"Alright…" He sighs and drops his head to stare at his boots. Heavy military boots. The kind made for kicking people's asses and walking all over them. Solid, black leather. "I'll see what I can do. I'll keep the feds off you and see if I can get you a protection detail – just… don't say a thing to anybody. About any of this."

"Okay…" I nod a little. "I'm sorry…"

Lance leans forwards in his seat. His arm spans the gap between us, and lands on my knee. "It's okay…" He reassures me, nodding. "I understand if you felt like keeping this a secret. But for future reference – you tell me if something happens, okay? I'll take care of it."

"Okay…" I nod again, managing a faint smile. He's such a great guy. "Thanks…"

_So – we thought it would be okay. The feds cleaned up the situation nicely – wiping people's memories in the mall and the office block I burst through. They actually did one better – and instead of just denying the situation like I had expected, they planted false evidence to incriminate a Zoroark. The whole "Shadow punch" thing, and the illusionary fire I created worked seamlessly, and nobody suspected a thing. Apparently the Zoroark erased the memories of those who saw it._

_We thought it was all good._

_We were wrong._

_Because there was someone who heard the whole thing. Lance's helicopter pilot. He blabbed about the whole thing and made a heap of cash from the media. Of course – I was hounded to no end – yet Lance was nowhere to be seen. The FBI told me he was on annual leave in Kanto. And as Lance told me – Annual leave is "undercover", and Kanto is "Unova". The news corporations were all over me, and it was no time before everyone knew about me. Schoolmates, my parents (my younger brother already knew. I told him), people all over the world knew that I was a freak._

_Then there were suddenly more. More "freaks" popped up everywhere. It was funny how suddenly the numbers of Lucarios killed in "self-defence" rose dramatically. _

"_It tried to attack me – just out of nowhere! But we fought it off, but we ended up killing it. I thought – I might as well – so I drank its blood. Seriously! It was self-defence!" There's the jist of it._

_Now – I'm not saying that everyone lied. I'm saying ninety percent lied, but I truly did believe a few cases. Sure – most were power-hungry humans trying to get what they craved, – power – but some were in fact self-defence. Consider this – you're a Lucario. Suddenly the world finds out they can become powerful by killing your kind and drinking your blood. Wouldn't you get a little anxious around humans too? It you felt threatened by a human or thought it was about to attack you – would you attack it? I would._

_So thus – I had created a pretty big problem. So therefore I came up with a solution. I way to fix it as best as I could, doing what I did best._

_Caring for Pokémon at the day-care centre. Because following the discovery by one particularly cruel bastard that the blood of a Riolu worked just as well – the numbers of Lucarios being placed in the day-care with breeding privileges doubled…_

_I had to do something – and I've been doing something for the last two months…_

**Author's notes:**

**Yay! The prologue's done now. Cue time-warp 2 months ahead…**

**Anyway, there's chapter 2 for you. If you haven't noticed yet – every chapter is a reference to a song, and one line from that song is included. So I've taken a leaf from Zombicial Maniac and his Rise Against references. **

**This chapter is "Scars" by Papa Roach. **

"_**My scars remind me that the past is real…"**_

**Last chapter was "Going In Blind" by POD. One of my all-time favourite songs.**

"_**Time after time – I'm going in blind – I don't know which way I need to go."**_

**A little trouble on chapter 3 title – but I'll get there.**

**Please review or comment if you have the time. I'd appreciate feedback. I don't actually get many reviews, so I'm a bit literately starved.**


	3. Somewhere I Belong

Chapter three

Over My Head.

*2 months later*

_Now – I'm not saying that everyone lied. I'm saying ninety percent lied, but I truly did believe a few cases. Sure – most were power-hungry humans trying to get what they craved, – power – but some were in fact self-defence. Consider this – you're a Lucario. Suddenly the world finds out they can become powerful by killing your kind and drinking your blood. Wouldn't you get a little anxious around humans too? It you felt threatened by a human or thought it was about to attack you – would you attack it? I would._

_So thus – I had created a pretty big problem. So therefore I came up with a solution. I way to fix it as best as I could, doing what I did best._

_Caring for Pokémon at the day-care centre. Because following the discovery by one particularly cruel bastard that the blood of a Riolu worked just as well – the numbers of Lucarios being placed in the day-care with breeding privileges doubled…_

_I had to do something – and I've been doing something for the last two months…_

"Tane." I stop and glance up from my page. Ms Watson stands with her arms folded, tapping her elbow with a slender finger. She smiles coyly and stares at my page as I slam my book shut quickly. "This is _maths_. What are you doing?"

Some people still find it in their hearts to treat me decently.

"Just a bit of writing." I shrug. "Just to remind myself how I got here." I end on a lower, thoughtful note. Where I am now… how did this all happen? Right – that's why I'm writing it down.

Ms Watson sighs. "You can do that in your own-… Tane, my eyes are up here." She adds very quietly. I chuckle a little and lift my eyes a little meet her gaze, both of us smiling.

"Sorry Miri." I say, but still grinning as I refrain from staring lower.

She shakes her head briskly, and she strides to the front of the room. As soon as her back is turned, I throw open my book again. I tear a blank page from the back and slam it on my desk, I scribble a note on it quickly in blue pen, then fold it into quarters. I close my book again, and lean across to a boy on my left.

"_Psssss, _john…"

He glances sideways at me. He edges away a fraction, staring at me as his eyes glaze over with that same fear I see everywhere. He quickly turns to the front again, trying to ignore me.

I bite my lip, but press on. _"John…"_ I whisper. _"Can you pass this to-"_

"Tane! Again?" I cringe as I hear Ms Watson's voice cut the air. She storms toward me and snatches the note from my shock-paralyzed fingers. "Note passing? Really? I thought you were past this…" She shakes her head, muttering to herself as she heads for the front of the room again. She sits at her desk, and she unfolds the note.

I see her irises dance quickly across her eyes as she scans the note. She smiles faintly.

I don't interrupt her for the rest of the period. I put my head down and I dive into the problems scribbled on the board. They aren't too difficult, but I take my time in case I'm labelled "smart" again, and shifted once more. I've only recently gotten my place back in this room, and I'm planning to keep it.

I write the answers down immediately, but still pretend to scribble to fill in the remaining time. I glance up from my paper occasionally to scope the room.

At the opposite side of the room, my eyes meet Aedrine's. The remaining Lucario in class. As soon as our gazes lock, she immediately jerks her head away and back to her page, and holds it there. It's hardly visible, but she starts to shudder a little as I watch her.

Just for a moment before she looked away – I saw it in her eyes. Not fear… something else. A morbid curiosity. A spark of interest. For a moment where I wasn't looking, she was fascinated by me.

I remove my eyes from her with a hurt sigh. Every time I see her eyes I feel terrible. She's scared shitless of me. I've plotted her seat from here, and it's the furthest desk from mine. She positions herself as far from me as possible. Even at lunchtime when I see her, she just freezes up. She just freezes right on the spot, even with all of her friends around. Her eyes track me as I move, and they tremble. Sometimes she even falls over after freezing in mid-step. I want to help her up, but she'd have a heart attack if I even came close to her. Even if I did, her friends would try kill me if I came within a metre of her. Poor girl.

The bell rings fifteen minutes later. A smile makes its way to my face as I sit upright and find Ms Watson walking towards me. She diverts just as she reaches my desk, and she tosses a scrap of paper onto my desk as she follows the flow of students into the corridor for lunch time.

It's the same note I was passing. The same note she took off me before it reached its "supposed" destination. But no – she intercepted it. Just like we planned. I take the paper in both hands and twist it to find the folds. I pull them apart and straighten it out.

Two messages, both in differently styled fonts.

**Miri, u doing anything 2nite? (midnight)?**

**- Tane**

And scribbled below:

_Mmm… nope. ; ) _

_I'm all urs, honey. ^^ Don't keep me waiting._

_Kisses – Miri._

At the bottom, a big lipstick smear where she has kissed the paper. Glossy, blood red. A colour I'm seeing too much of, nowadays…

I see it all run through my head yet again. The blood splattering the wall, the stench of sweat staining the air and the clogging musk of oil clinging to my soaked foot as I splash through the alleyway. A feral, outraged roar as a shape appears ahead, materialising from the darkness and lunging at me. I remember the swing – the kill. The taste of blood. Thick… coppery… sweet, sweet blood… so rich and heavenly, like honey. As disturbing as the thought is… the memory is _so_ good…

I finally manage to shake myself from my trance. I glance up at the clock. **Crap! Five minutes?** My trances aren't getting any shorter. If anything, they're slowly getting a little longer.

They say you hear voices… screams.

I do.

They say you relive the moment a thousand times every night. The moment right before the kill.

I do.

They say if you forget about it, it fades slowly – but never disappears. They say you should forget.

I can't.

They say that if you keep going – keep killing, you become numb to the voices. Their horror and pain doesn't affect you anymore. They say – their screams – they become silent.

They don't.

Suddenly conscious of myself, I reach up and pull my beanie over my forehead further. I can feel the marks burn. They sting faintly, as if reminding me that they are – in fact – there. They do that every time I think of them. XXI. Twenty-one. And I have a bad feeling that that number's going to increase by the day's end.

I shake my head quickly as I realise the direction my train of thought is heading. **Hey! Don't think like that.** I tell myself. I glance down at the note on the desk again, managing to smile as Miri's lipstick glistens in the sun. From here I can feel the tantalising scent of Razzberry touch my nose, drifting from the paper and filling the air. She knows how much I love that smell. **Be happy. You've got everything set for the perfect night. Cheer up Tane.**

**No.** Suddenly I backtrack on myself. Being optimistic may be mentally healthy, but being realistic is what keeps me going. **Today's the seventh. You know what that means.**

"I know what that means…" I answer lifelessly as I scoop my books up and slide them into my bag. I shuffle them through the zipper and zip it up, then pull open the zipper at the front of my bag. I withdraw a plain white diary from inside, and part the pages.

Each page is a new day. Every month, one page is a calendar. I open it to the calendar page for this month and sigh. Eight days ago, there's a note.

_Thomas Gardner – Riolu egg returned – 124 Furn street._

"Thomas Gardner…" I replace my diary as I murmur, digging through my memory. I know the name. It only takes a moment for me to match a face to it.

"_Thomas Gardner?"_

_In the corner of the library, sitting in a couch against the window, a boy looks up from his book. His eyes are lifeless and his face is pale, devoid of anything human. His lips barely move as he speaks._

"_Yes?"_

"_Mr Glasgow needs you in the dean's office." The woman tells him._

_Thomas nods slowly, and he shuts his book. He places it back in the shelf beside him, and he stands. He slowly walks after the woman, keeping his hands in his pockets._

Thomas Gardner. He's always been kind of creepy and quiet. Then again – so have I, as of late. This strikes a little concern in me. People far more normal than Thomas Gardner have tried to kill Riolu for their aura. I've killed people far more normal to keep that from happening.

It's a funny feeling, having everyone stare at me like they do. I feel it again as I stride into the corridor from my maths class. Instantly I'm the centre of attention. Conversations stop, and students all look my way. They shuffle and edge away slightly, whispering.

It'd a funny feeling, staring at these people. These people – some at least – whose friends you have brutally slaughtered. Yeah. I see one guy in particular who glares at me, exuding hatred in excess. The quick rising and falling of his chest is only the first sign that he really doesn't like me. After that, it's the clenched fists and the red face.

I remember his friend. Clyde Simpson. A real smooth guy. Ladies' man. Always winked at girls as he passed, spoke loud and proud. In on the right side of the right people. Unfortunately, he also got on the wrong side of the wrong people. Specifically – me. I had him marked down in my diary too. About two weeks ago.

_Clyde Simpson – Riolu egg returned – 53 Woolworths street_

Eight days later – he died.

My diary is full of notes like these. They're becoming more and more prominent. Notes like that. Name. "Riolu egg returned". Address. Eight days after each, either a cross, or a tick.

So far, there are two ticks. Eight crosses. I suspect there will be nine by the end of today. Eight days later…

I slink my way through the schoolgrounds, drawing as little attention as I can to myself and trying to keep low. I head to the school admin block, and I sign my name off on the roster. I scribble beside my name: NOI program. Then I head outside again.

I step out of the school grounds and onto the street. As I glance down the road in both directions, a dry breeze sweeps down the street. It whistles ominously between fences and scatters litter down the sidewalk, decorating the grey urban landscape with a little colour.

I head to the east. The same direction as I do every time.

The day care centre's been around for a while. Anyone perceptive can spot that instantly. Every generation of owners has added their little touch to the compound.

First there's the cottage-like centre. A new coat of white hides the history behind it, but it still exists in the old-timey décor. The original owners were just an old couple who used to occasionally look after people's Pokémon for a small price. They just let them play in the yard, feeding them from time-to-time. Eventually the couple died. A new owner moved into the house, and thought it would be cool to continue the day-care services. He, however, made a small business out of it. He built an enclosure and wire fencing around a compound. After him, he passed it on to his ambitious son – who is the forefather of the modern day-care system. He built a special "medical bay" into his day-care, to care for injured Pokémon and evaluate their health. He started Pokémon training and education programs for them. He remodelled the entire compound – expanding it, creating ponds, creating caves, planting trees. He expanded his operations from there, and soon enough the day-care centres began popping up all over the world.

I really wish he hadn't sold it from there – but he was growing old. He sold it to another owner. Pity that. If he had kept it in the family, chances are that_ I_ would be running the place. Yeah – that guy was my granddad. Dead now. Like my dad.

The new owner has essentially upgraded everything already there. High-tech security, cameras nearly everywhere, a near-indestructible mesh dome over top so nothing can get in or out. He pretty much turned the place into a fancy prison. No – not a prison. That makes it sound unpleasant. It's a nice place. Fields, ponds, trees, caves – it's great. More like… a modern castle. A fort. Nearly impenetrable.

I stride through the front door with a relieved murmur as I feel the warm circulation of the room engulf me. "That's the stuff…" I shut the door behind me quickly, closing out the cold.

A woman sits at a desk ahead of me. About thirty. She glances up from a computer at the desk and nods; her thick rouge locks bounce behind her.

"You're early." She points out monotonously. "By thirty minutes." Our eyes lock as I stop. I stand, she sits, and we're both still. "Again."

"Well school doesn't need to know that." I shrug, smiling nervously.

She sighs, and returns to her keyboard. "Whatever."

I breathe out heavily – releasing my pent-up tension with a relieved grin. She doesn't care. I walk to a nearby wall and swing my school bag onto a hook. I replace this with a satchel, identified by a "Jubilife Day-Care" logo. I take a badge from one pocket of the bag and pin it to my shirt. "Tane". Like anyone knows how to pronounce my name, anyway. I usually get called "Tain", like train, or sometimes "Tarn", like barn. Tane. Tarn-ay. Sounds like "barn-hay". Tane. Probably needs an "I" at the end, actually.

I begin towards a door behind the counter, but the woman speaks up again. "Yours are waiting in the employee lounge." Her annoying shrill voice reminds me.

"Oh…" I stop with my hand on the door handle. I turn to the door with a nervous gulp, removing my hand a little. I know what's going to happen as soon as I set foot inside. _Unless…_ Unless I can run it. Unless I can charge through and out the other door and lock it behind me before they can get me.

I tense my fingers around the doorknob and draw a last, hopeful breath. I twist the doorknob, and I wrench the door towards me. I jump around the side of it, and sprint straight for the door on the opposite side of the room.

"Rio!"

"Car!"

"Riolu!" I've barely made two steps by the time I hear their voices chime up. I take a doomed glance to my right as I run – but all I see is blue and blur. It knocks the wind clear out of me – and I land painfully on the floor before I've even made it halfway to the door.

"Ri-ri!"

"Cario!"

"Rio!"

"Luca!"

"Ri!"

"Car!"

"Ri-Riolu!"

"Riolu!"

"Rio!"

"Olu?"

"Ri-rio!"

"Riooo_ooo!"_ it all comes as one great excited babble as furry bodies surround me from every angle. My face is slammed into the ground, and three somethings land on my back to pin me to the ground. Then – two pairs of tiny paws grip each arm and leg, holding me down also. For their size – they're _friggin strong!_

"Crap…" I life my head a little, grinning. I manage to look up enough to meet the glare of a little Riolu. Arms crossed and staring at me, smirking and greatly amused by the looks of things. I know that look. That's the "You thought you'd get away, huh?" look.

"Ri-ri-ri…" He shakes his head with a long, almost pitying sigh. He takes my cheeks and lifts my head a little more, crouching in front of me. He closes his eyes and nuzzles into my forehead – his grin turning goofy. "Rio!"

"Alright – you got me." I chuckle. At my surrender, the weights on my back lift immediately. They fall aside, and suddenly I'm surrounded. A Lucario lying on either side of me, one lying in front of me, and over a dozen Riolu climbing over top of them. "Hey guys." I roll onto my back as they shuffle in closer. The two Lucarios each grab one sleeve and cuddle up close on either side, purring. The third Lucario's face appears hovering over mine, grinning as she kneels over me. I can tell them apart now without difficulty. This one's the easiest though, being the only female of the group. I'd admit she's pretty hot – if she wasn't only three months old. Coz it's weird being attracted to a three-month old. At least – I think. It feels weird. "Hey Rissa."

"Car." She strokes one digit down my cheek as the Riolu clamber all over me. They fall onto my arms and lie on my stomach, each grabbing a fistful of my shirt and snuggling up close as if "personal space" is a foreign policy.

And then there's the others. Sure they're all guys, but I haven't let that stop me from getting a little friendly with them. We're all friends. It's the fact that they're all _young_ guys that bothers me. Exactly how old does a Lucario have to be for you to screw it without being a paedophile?

So here I lie – covered in Riolu and sandwiched between two Lucarios with one stroking my face. I can feel all of their warm furry bodies rub against me, and they're all purring in delight.

Best feeling ever. Which is ironic, considering my stance on Lucarios months earlier.

"Alright – up boys." I sigh finally, and make an attempt to stand. Nothing. Nobody even budges. In fact – they all grin their cheeky grins and hang on a bit tighter to my clothing. "Up you get. I have to work."

"_Loosen up."_ Rissa croons as her paws stroke down my neck to my shoulders. She rubs around in gentle circles, still smiling. _"I learned this from a Dusclops today. I wanna try it on you."_

My resolve deserts me quickly as I try to sit up. I fall back onto the floor again as her claws lightly prick my skin. _"_That's _good…"_ I moan.

"_Thought you'd like it."_ She beams at my reaction, and presses to her advantage. She's found a way to keep me down now – unfortunately for my work ethic. I lie back with a lazy, wide grin as her wonderful paws gently lull me into a state of euphoria. I don't usually relax – but I decide to make an exception for this.

"Liar…" I manage a weak smile as she continues. Even the others are getting into it – I feel the other Lucarios stroking down my arm and their paws creeping up the shoulders of my t-shirt, and I feel the Riolu all settling on my stomach and rubbing me through my shirt. I'm just surrounded. "You can't have learned how to do this in one day…"

"_Okay – maybe a few days."_ She confesses sheepishly.

"Really, Rissa? _Really…?_" My back arches as her claws hit a sensitive spot – lifting the Riolu on my chest up a bit. They giggle collectively, but cling on.

"_Okay – two weeks. I wanted to nail it."_

"Oh – you have it _nailed…"_ I almost purr the last word. Arceus – if they could all handle me like Rissa, I think I'd spend my entire life inside just lying down like this all day and being massaged. **Hell yeah…**

"Tane. Slacking off again?"

"David…" I slur my words in my state of sensation-intoxication. I open one eye, and nod weakly as they all keep me pinned. "Hey… wassup…?"

"There are a lot of hungry Pokémon out there who need feeding." He reminds me in his usual buzzkill tone. "Do you want them to starve?"

"There are a lot of Pokémon in here who are hungry for attention." I reply. I feel the Pokémon snuggle a bit closer at that remark. "Do you want me to let them, starve?"

"Tane." He crosses his arms and stares coldly. "Do me a favour. Go out there and feed those Pokémon "attention". I dare you. They'll be _thrilled_, I'm sure."

"All right, all right…" I cut in. _Jeez_ he's a whiner sometimes.

My Pokémon won't let go of me – they're too strong for me to break out – so I guess I'll just have to go _through_.

I close my eyes for a moment to focus, whispering under my breath. With a tremendous mental effort, I flush my inner energy into my physical body. Think air – think of weightlessness. Think of being surrounded by nothing – no obstacles to stop me. Pull my body from the physical world and into spirit – a world where nothing will hinder me other than my own willpower.

Fixing this idea in my head, I subconsciously lift myself. The Pokémon around me gasp and chirp in surprise – despite having seen my act too many times – and leap aside after falling through my phased stomach. I lift myself off the ground through levitation, though consuming my entire mind-set to pull it off.

At the top of my lift, I twist my energy – throwing my upper body forwards and my lower backwards. I spin forwards quickly, and land perfectly on my feet.

"Don't do that, man." David stumbles back a little. His face is pale with fright – even though he too has seen it a few times already. "Enough with it…"

"Okay, sorry." I wave it off, scooping up my satchel once more. Fortunately it wasn't damaged in the tumble. I hoist the strap onto a shoulder and begin towards the outside door.

The next hour is just more of the usual. I sort and organise different Pokémon foods and dish it out correspondingly into different areas. A few occupants receive a special bowl accustomed to their tastes or specific training diet, so those take me a little longer to prepare.

My Riolu and Lucario team spread themselves between helping me unload bags of food and keeping the drooling Pokémon at bay, alternating on occasion between roles.

Just when I think I've finished – more work manages to bog me down.

"Tane!"

I groan and stand upright. I hear my back crack as I unbend it and I let the empty feed bag drift to the ground. "Yeah… what?"

"I have to be somewhere." The woman paces towards me quickly, stretching the front of her skirt out with her impatient gait. "Something's come up. I need you to cover for me."

"Do I have to?" I groan. I try to roll my shoulders and loosen them, but they protest and fight against me – like the joints are rusted over.

"Yes." Her head bobs quickly. "Look, I'll forward my pay for the next hour to you – I just have to go. My father's been taken to hospital."

"All right – I got it." I groan. Anything to stop her nagging… besides. I've got another two and a half hours before I get to business.

"Good." She sighs a little. For a moment she appears relieved, but she immediately dashes back into her impatient stride back for the reception again.

"_Hm."_ Rissa appears beside me, staring after the departing woman. "_Not even a "thanks.""_

"I didn't expect one." I shrug. "Hey, can you and the boys handle the horde while I take over at reception?"

"_We're on it."_ She nods quickly, snapping to a brief salute, then shoots off towards where the boys are goofing off under a nearby tree. I head after the woman to the reception with a chuckle as I hear Rissa shouting orders to the boys. **She loves being top dog.**

I take point at reception for the third time in my work-life. First time wasn't too good, but I learned quickly for the second time.

"Welcome to Jubilife city day-care. Name please." I recite with the plastic grin which has become part of my uniform now.

"Allery Smith." She places her elbows on the counter, starring around at the roof and surroundings and making a brief profile.

"You aren't on our client list…" I tell her after a moment of scanning through the computer database. "Would you like to make a booking, or would you like information on the services we offer?"

She doesn't return eye contact fortunately, and keeps glancing about the room as she answers. "I'd like to make a booking."

And so goes the general conversation. The girl's never been before, so I give her the run down as she inspects the reception. I take her details, dish out a handful of fliers and information brochures, then send her on her way.

Just as she disappears through a pair of sliding doors, another strides through. I can tell just by the way her knee-high red boots move that she's been here before. There's two main ways to walk into a place. The "where am I?" walk of the girl previous, and the "I know this place" walk of this one. This girl's stride falls comfortably into the "I own this place, bitches" subcategory. She's a regular.

"Hey. Wassup." Not as a question – just a tension-busting "wassup".

I let my fake smile drop. She's casual enough that I'll get away with it. "Workmate emergency shift-jump." I sigh. She nods a little, smiling that grin that knowing grin. She gets it. "So… name's Tane and I'm your desk jockey today. What can I do ya for?"

"Trisha Johnston. I have an appointment. Lucario."

My fingers freeze over the keyboard on the last word. I lift my eyes from the screen for a moment, fixing her a curious stare for a moment. "Lots of Lucarios being put in day-care recently." I comment as I get back to work on the computer.

"Yeah. Funny how the numbers increase after this whole "Volraith" situation."

"Yeah… it is funny…" I reply flatly.

"Also funny how many guys end up getting killed after picking up Pokémon eggs from here…"

_Now_ she catches my attention. I look up quickly – but her eyes are dawdling across the roof. As if it was a totally innocent comment, in no way accusing.

"It's not funny at all." I reply, keeping my cool.

"Oh, I know who you are, Tane." She looks down again with a somewhat patronising grin. Patronising, but not insulting. "My boyfriend's roommate is your lawyer."

"Oh…" my clenched fists ease a little. "So… you know about it all?"

"I know." She nods. "I can't say I agree with your methods – but your heart's in the right place. That's worth something."

"Thanks." I smile a bit, and take her pokéball from her side of the counter. **Some people understand.**

"No privileges." She says before I can ask. "No mating, no fighting – she just needs a place to stay. She's my boyfriend's Pokémon, and he's away for a while. We're both Rangers."

"I could tell by the uniform." I scan my eyes up the thing briefly from toe-to-head, making sure not to pause anywhere inappropriate. "Aren't those uncomfortable?"

"How so?"

"Like…" I lift my hands to just in front of my armpits. I run them down my sides, running them over the imaginary "curves" that identify the feminine physique. "I mean, I don't have breasts so I wouldn't know, but that looks tight."

She glances down at her bust for a moment, murmuring through gritted teeth. "You get used to it." She says after a moment, looking back to me again. "It's uncomfortable at first, but you get used to it. Sex sells, and all that business jargon."

"I wasn't aware the rangers sold anything."

"It sells the image." She explains, shrugging. "Think about it. A bunch of women running around in skin-tight blue Lycra suits and hot-pants, tiny red jackets that we can't actually button up over our breasts, and knee-high red boots. Pretty hot. Then compare that to if we wore hazmat suits instead."

"Sex sells." I agree definitely with a dumb nod, still a little occupied by her description.

"Anyway, her name's Aedrine." **Shit… of course it's Aedrine… fucking ironic universe… **"She's in a few of your classes, I believe."

"Yeah… she is." I gulp privately as I stare at the ball in my hand. If she can tell what's going on outside her ball, chances are she's having a heart attack right now. "I'll take care of her."

"My thanks." The girl smiles faintly. "Ah – and one last thing…" One hand darts into the pocket of her jacket. It emerges holding a scrap of paper and a pen. She uses her right hand as a backboard and scribbles something onto the piece of paper in her left, then she slaps the piece onto the counter in front of me.

"What's this?" I take the piece from the counter and flip it over. There's a number scrawled from one side to the other in large, neat print considering how quickly she wrote it down.

"It's my number." She replies. As my gaze lifts to meet hers, she raises me an impish smile. "Call me – kay Tane?"

I keep a frustrated sigh under my breath, refraining from banging my head on the counter in front of me. I stare at my feet, gritting my teeth and clenching the fist which is hidden behind the computer screen.

**This again.**

"I thought you had a boyfriend?" I remember, bringing my eyes back to her.

"He's out of town for the week." She dismisses as if it's nothing. "So that means I'm all alone for the five days. All alone in my apartment, no jobs until the fifteenth… catch my drift?" As she ends, she grins again, using her facial expression to encourage me as much as possible.

"And why me?" I sigh. It's so… random how this always happens now.

She strides forwards to meet me at the counter. "'Cause you're cute." She purrs the end of the sentence, leaning across the counter a little. My eyes helplessly avert downwards as one of her hands dances around her collar, casually tugging it down a bit and showing off a bit of skin. "And you're Volraith… I bet you know how to make a girl _hot_." She winks.

Between her bewitching stare, dirty words and the finger teasing the collar of her suit, I'm too transfixed to notice her other hand appear under me. My lips part a fraction in surprise as her fingers brush against my neck, but before I can pull away she really gets into me. Her hand flattens against my collar, and her fingers explore along my shoulders and about my throat.

"Yeah… you like that…" She giggles at me as I helplessly fall into her touch. I feel my face burn with embarrassment as she abuses my instinctive Pokémon reaction, but still sink into her stroking fingers. It isn't the situation that's so damn shameful – it's how helpless I am to fight against my natural reaction to being stroked. I just love it… _God _I love it….

"Oh yeah…" I reply huskily, feeling my head crane back to let her fingers play up my throat like a demented instrument, provoking my quiet growling or purring as she tests different ways and places to touch me.

"I bet you're _dynamite_ in the sack…" She croons with an evil, satisfied smile. "Oh, I just can't _wait _to make you _explode_…"

My head lurches forwards to follow her fingers as they disappear. I nearly throw my arms out to catch her as I leave, but reality comes crashing back down as cold wraps around my neck to replace the warmth.

**Crap!**

She pirouettes on one heel, and she begins towards the doorway again. "Call me, Tane." She reminds me, looking over her shoulder and putting her fingers and thumb to her ear to mimic a phone.

I stare emptily at the doorway for a few moments until I'm sure she's gone.

"Cr_aaaaaaap…"_ I fall forwards and bang my head on the keyboard in front of me. I just want to curl up in a ball and hide after that.

**I'm like a fucking animal…** I nearly growl my innermost thoughts – almost revealing my greatest shame to the world. That's not the first time that's happened to me. Not the first time someone's abused my innate reaction to being touched. Every time… every time I can't resist it. They just press me to the point where I'm not sure if I'm human anymore –purring, growling, rubbing against their hand sometimes… damn them all.

I groan again as I lift my head once more. I brush a few black locks away with a grunt. Always those same few locks that fall out of my beanie. Parts of my hair grow faster now. I've worked a few particular strands to grow at four-inches every month. Those strands are the ones I've given up on trying to control, and just braided together. So short all over, but with a dozen braids falling about on all sides and just sticking out under my beanie.

I lay my hand across the counter, palm up. The scrap of paper unfolds in my hand, revealing the number again. As much as I want to screw it up and burn it in my hand – I just can't bring myself to. Sure – she embarrassed me and abused my helplessness – but _damn_ she knew how to touch me. And the submissive and Pokémon parts of me absolutely _loved_ it.

Plus – she was hot.

**All right Pokémon-ness.** I think with a short growl, pushing the paper deep into his bottom of my pocket. **You win this round… for now…** Maybe I'll call her. Maybe I'll bring myself to reject her invitation and get rid of the number. Only time will tell. Right now I have more immediate concerns.

I take a minute to head back into the compound and find one of my Lucarios. I hand one of the males Aedrine's ball, and give him specific instructions on releasing her and her orientation – including that he shouldn't mention me no matter what. After that I hurry back into the reception, where a young boy and his mother are waiting patiently in front of the counter.

Just under two hours of the usual go by without another "event" of any kind. Throughout the whole time I find myself glancing up at the clock behind me, measuring how long it is. Working out the equation in my head – the time from laying to hatching of a Rioulu egg. Also the time it'll take me to head across town. Also the margin for error.

As closing time draws near, I begin packing up a few minutes early. I head about the complex quickly – being sure to watch out for Aedrine and stay out of sight – and check food reserves, close off the gates between different areas and all the usual maintenance work. I then hang up my satchel, unpin my nametag, then log the computer on again for a quick check.

One search of "Thomas Gardner" brings up all that I need. "Borrowed". He placed a borrowed Lucario in day-care. One he borrowed from someone else in order to receive an egg. Just as I feared.

It's always the "borrowed" ones. The Lucarios who rent themselves out to trainers for breeding purposes. It's a funny system – a lot like prostitution. Lucarios hire themselves out to trainers to be placed in day-care and to be bred with other Pokémon. Some are simply sluts looking to make cash. Some are nymphomaniacs or sex-addicts who see a perfect opportunity to make money and have fun at the same time. Some are specially-bred and exceptional genotypes which are used to breed Lucarios of the highest quality. Some are a mixture of these.

That's where I come in. "Said person" wants a Pokémon with "said genes or qualities". "Said person" talks to me. I check my database, do some digging to trace genotypes, order the drugs required and point out what Pokémon are required for the desired result and who owns such a Pokémon with desired the genotype. Then I totalise the costs for everything, according to the drug prices and the prices charged by the required Pokémon's trainer and by adding a small fee for my services.

I'm a breeder, in other words. And a damn good one at that. My claim to fame is actually one of my brother's young Pokémon. He's been a legendary co-ordinator from the age of _nine_, believe it or not. As an extra special birthday present, I got him a very special Torchic egg. Borrowed a few thousand dollars from mum after showing her my research and assuring her I had all the genotypes mapped out, then set to work a year before my brother's birthday. I had to get the genes of an _Absol_ – of all things – to a _Blaziken._ It took the initial Absol (who only really had a few specific genes I wanted), a Lairon breeding with it while both them were on specific conception drugs, evolving the male child through to an Aggron, breeding _that _with a female Lucario (In a word – _ouch_. poor bitch.) with both on conception drugs to pass on the specific genes, _then _evolving the male Riolu child into a Lucario and breeding it with a Blaziken. Then _that _egg I gave to my brother.

He never understood the effort I put in or the exceptional quality of his present until about a year ago, when it began winning. A lot. Phenotypes for the slimmest, most aerodynamic body possible, iv setups to maximise every aspect of her ability, I even set her genes for maximum brain capacity so she can learn quickly.

It was the most god-damn-spectacular Blaziken the world had ever seen. For about three weeks after the Blaziken's rise to fame, I was in the running for breeder of the year. The name "Tane Chase" was associated with "champion-quality breeding" for that period…

Until it happened.

Then the name "Tane Chase" meant "Volraith". I wasn't the champion breeder anymore – I was suddenly "the Pokémon guy". People stopped contacting me about breeding after that… I lost all the professional trainers who previously had appointments with me in an instant. It seemed they suddenly didn't want to know me anymore.

And so goes my train of thought as I stroll across town with my troop of Lucarios and Riolu in tow, ducking through evening traffic in the most populated city in the region. I swim through the hustle and bustle and to the subway, where I catch a ride to the other side of town. I step off still preoccupied with what I used to be for about three weeks.

I used to be famous.

Famous like my prodigy co-ordinator little brother. Famous like my "champion of the Kanto region" brother, Lance. Famous like my "Leader of team aqua" mother. Famous like my "ex-leader of team aqua" father. Famous like my "establisher of the day-care movement" grandfather.

Amongst these heroes and idols – I'm infamous.

I arrive just at the edge of my "room for error". An area that spans ten minutes either side of the apparent hatching moment – giving me a twenty minute window. I pull my diary from my bag as I stand in front of the house, and I flick it open to the page I was checking this morning.

_Thomas Gardner – Riolu egg returned – 124 Furn street._

I glance up at the rusted white mailbox in front of me. 124. I glance down the street, to where I can barely make out the lettering on the signpost. Furn street.

I sit myself just to the side of the property, on the footpath. I lean back against the neighbour's fence, and I close my eyes. At my sides, my Riolu and Lucarios land beside me. Eleven paws land on my shoulders and arms as I lift one hand to my face, and I place it over one eye – hiding it under my palm. As I call upon my own reserves of strength, I feel my Pokémons' aura flow into my arms, assisting me as I draw the energy into my left hand.

Under my right hand, my right eye closes. "Foresight…" My left fist opens, palm up. The air has thickened slightly into a little orb.

Instantly – my head spins. I clench my other eye shut with a grunt of pain.

The dual-visions merge into one – and I'm staring through the ghostly eyeball in my hand. I see my fingers in front of me, half-closed around the eyeball. It's like looking at the screen of a TV and playing a video game. Ghost camera.

I move the eyeball left and right a little, testing it for movement. The road ahead of me and the houses opposite scroll from side-to-side in my vision. I lift the shadow eye up and down for a moment to test vertical motion. So far so good. I lift it up a bit more, and I turn it around. I find myself staring at my body – slouched against the flaking fence behind me. I see my lips curl into a little grin. It's funny being able to see yourself like this.

I alternate eyes. Being careful to fully close my right eye first. – avoiding another "double vision" migraine – I open my left eye. My head spins for a moment of discomfort as my vision shifts back to my own, and I find myself staring at the ghostly eyeball floating just in front of my face.

It's nearly invisible. Just a patch of air that's slightly discoloured towards purple. Upon closer inspection I can see a slightly darker patch for the pupil and a patch shimmering more vigorously which is the iris, but at a glance it isn't even there.

I alternate eyes again, shifting to the eyeball. I lift it up a little, and then shoot it forwards. My vision shoots towards the fence behind me at frightening velocity. Even now, I still wince as my vision flashes right through the wood behind me. The rational part of my mind sees me travelling towards something quickly and tells me to close my eyes. The rational part of me tells me I'm about to crash – but my ghost eye travels through without hindrance.

I fly my eye around the side of the house, over the scraggy garden skirting the bottom of the house. I fly it around a small corner, and fly to the first window I see. Since people naturally look at windows often – just in case someone's vision is good – I fly my eye up a bit and to the right.

Everything goes blank for a moment as my phased eye passes through the wall, but it emerges on the other side to light. A woman in her late forties standing in front of a small bedside cabinet, staring at a photo. She doesn't move, but her weary eyes sit on the photograph – like the thousand yard stare.

I zip back through the wall again, and move across to the next window.

The light doesn't blind me this time – it's softer. In the middle of the room, a bedside lamp illuminates the room in a soft, orange glow. I recognise Thomas as the boy sitting on the bed adjacent. Cross-legged with the egg sitting in his lap. A small crack along the top is enough to tell me it's about to happen.

I zoom my eye back through the wall behind me, and turn it around. I spot one of my Riolus edging around the back of the house and sticking close to the wall, watching carefully for anyone who might decide on a casual walk around the place.

I fly towards him and lower to his level. He stops and glances up at my eye as soon as it's within three metres. He probably didn't see it – but he can feel it. I fly close to his face so he can see, then hover up and down quickly.

"Rio?" He cocks his head.

I turn my eye around and fly towards the window to Thomas' room. The blinds are pulled, so no light escapes.

"Rio." He nods staunchly. He scarpers across the grass to just under the window and shoots up the wall. He grabs the ledge and hauls himself onto it. He presses himself flat back against the window like in an action movie, raising one arm across his torso. Ready to smash through the pane and leap in on my order.

I fly my eye back through the wall. I immediately focus on the egg as I enter the room again. The top of it has cracked a little more, and I see Thomas is suddenly a lot more alert. I can't hear anything inside, but by his excitement I assume it's making cracking noises.

It happens so suddenly. The top of the egg breaks away, and a tiny blue paw shoots through the gap. Thomas' head jerks back a little in surprise, but he's back in there as soon as his nerves have settled again. We both watch carefully as more of the egg's shell is smashed away, and more blue is revealed inside the shell.

The side of the egg suddenly breaks away, and the rest of it follows – splitting down the middle and falling in half and releasing the Pokémon into the world.

There's a look. Riolu are born with greater awareness than most other species. That means as soon as their eyes open at birth, they're sentient and curious. There's always a look. A brilliant, sparking curiosity that fills their bright little eyes as they receive their first glimpse of the world. You can _feel_ the awe and joy through their aura as they see colours for the first time. It's a feeling that can't be described. It can't be compared to anything else because it's so unreal. Their curiosity and shock and wonderment at every little detail. Gravity, colour, temperature, even the three-dimensions of the world – every little tiny detail fascinates them.

I feel a smile sprawl across my face. Even though I know what's probably about to happen – I can't help but smile. They always make me smile.

But alas – after a moment my grin settles into a grimace as bliss falls back into reality.

There's a window of opportunity. In an egg a Pokémon is invincible. The shell of an unhatched Pokémon egg is – as far as we know – indestructible. The skin of a Pokémon too – even a young one – is very, _very _tough. Too tough for many conventional human weapons to damage. But – between being in egg form and being in true Pokémon form – there's another phase. The transition phase. The transition phase is between egg and Pokémon form. It's the period where a Pokémon's body first charges its inner energy. In transition phase – a Riolu is just a funny-shaped blue human. No aura power. No super Pokémon strength. No energy to toughen it. It's a differently shaped human, without any Pokémon power. That period lasts approximately five minutes. That's the kill-window.

I used to think of it like a video game. Stamina or shields. If an enemy hits you, your shields or stamina go down. When your shields reach zero, you can be hurt and killed. The transition phase is like charging those shields for the first time.

I watch the event without a move, though I can feel the word "go" resting on my lips – ready to send my Rioulu in at any moment.

Thomas brushes the egg fragments away from the Riolu as it still gazes around. He gently scoops it up under its armpits, and he brings it a little closer to him. I see his mouth move, and form a smile after he says something to it.

I can't believe it.

I watch for the next ten minutes in dumbstruck silence. Well past the transition phase.

I can't believe it.

I fly the eye back out slowly. I bring it around to my Riolu, and move it side-to-side. He wipes his brow in relief, and he hops down from the windowsill. I watch him as he lands softly in the garden, then dashes for the front of the property again.

I close both eyes, and I remove my hand from my eye. When I open them again, everything is normal once more. The shadow eye is gone.

"_Looks like a tick, then?"_ Rissa's tail wags a little. Not the "I'm happy" wag, but the "everything's okay" wag.

"Yeah…" I nod a little, though shakily.

I honestly thought he was going to try to kill it. I honestly thought he was going to kill the Riolu. I _expected _him to. I was fully prepared to order my Riolu smash open the window, jump in the window after him and kick the living crap out of Thomas Gardner.

"People are human…" I remind myself as I stand. It's hard to believe it sometimes – judging by the cruel shit they do – but people are, in fact, human. They aren't all killers or monsters… like me.

Suddenly the situation has reversed – and _I'm_ the monster. I was going to be the hero who leapt through the window at the last moment and saved the helpless Riolu from the crazy heartless killer. But now I'm the crazy killer ready to jump through and slaughter the innocent schoolkid if he makes a wrong move.

**Arceus… what's wrong with me…**

I glance up as I feel the paws return to my arms. My team cuddles in around me – grabbing my clothing and resting their heads against me. I feel the Lucarios' arms wrap around me a bit, and they pull themselves against me. They can feel my sadness… they can feel my darkness.

"_It's okay…"_ Rissa sits in my lap, stroking down the back of my neck. I feel her twist one of my braids around a claw and toy with it a little, still stroking me. _"There's no darkness in your heart – so stop seeing it."_

"Rissa – you don't understa-"

"_Tane."_ She cuts in sharply – stopping me short by tugging a little on my hair under my beanie. She tilts my head back a bit by my braid, and she places a paw on each cheek – beaming at me softly. "_You've created a lot of illusions with your powers, but the biggest ones…"_ her paws drift away. One slides a claw gently down my neck and stomach, and stops above my heart. _"Are here…"_ Then her other paw drifts up a little, and stops on my forehead, "_and here. The darkness in your heart, and the cruelty of your mind. Your biggest illusion is that you're a bad person. It's so good that even you can't tell it's an illusion. You can't see through it and see the gold behind it."_ And then, she leans forwards. She places a quick peck on my forehead, and then draws back with a faint blush. She inclines her head with a cute, nervous grin – her aura receptors bouncing behind her. _"Kay?"_

**Arceus, you're a lifesaver.** I think as a smile grows on me. "Kay." I nod – swayed by her words. "Thanks Rissa." I finally lift one hand off the ground and I bring it around behind her. I place it on the back of her head, and bring her in to kiss her furry forehead. "Thanks." I whisper as she draws away again, and I tenderly scratch her neck with a finger.

She's just brilliant.

"_Now come up."_ She lifts herself off me and holds a hand down. I nod and take it and allow her to pull me to my feet. _"This one can be put to rest. Now there's just one more situation to deal with…"_

"What's that?" I dust myself off a little as I speak. A few gritty clumps of gravel cling to my backside, but I brush them off with one sweep of my hand.

"_Miri."_

*Twenty minutes later*

"_Heeeeeelloooooooo?"_ I slink between the door and doorframe, glancing about carefully. On my shoulders, two Riolu peek around my head – each holding a braid in one paw for balance. The kitchen's empty. The oven is off and the elements aren't red. The refrigerator is closed for once…

I usher my troop inside, and quietly close the door behind them. "You head off to my room, kay guys?"

"(Kay.)" The Lucarios respond with telepathy also. Two Lucarios bend down and scoop up a few Riolu each, then carry them away to a door at the side of the kitchen.

The Riolu on my shoulders jump to the floor and run to Rissa's feet. They join a third in tugging on her leg, and jump a little with small yelps.

Rissa ignores them. She crosses her arms and stares at me, tapping a foot.

I sigh and roll my eyes. _"And_ girls. The girls – or should I say _girl_ – can go too."

"_Thank you."_ rissa smiles. She bends down and scoops the three Riolu up in her arms, and carries them after the other two.

I grunt a little, smiling as she disappears from sight. Funny thing about her. She never counts herself as one of the "guys". I tell her that I just use the term generically for them all, but she insists on being separate. Maybe it's a pride thing – being the only female in the group – or maybe she just likes to feel special. She was my first Lucario anyway, so she seems to feel she has a special spot in my heart. Though I'd be lying if I said she didn't.

I head off through another door into the lounge. I stop in the doorway as a familiar sight presents itself.

In the middle of the room – there's a Blaziken. Yes – _that_ Blaziken I'm always on about. The one I genetically coded.

Her perfect, athletic ass is up in the air and her slender, gorgeous legs and spread level at 180 degree angles. A perfect upside-down splits. Her claws – sharp and shiny – hold the floor under her, keeping her toned, perfect body upright in a precise handstand, facing away from me.

Did I mention she's perfect?

Her body is mostly naked, save a tight, Lycra one-piece gymnast suit covering her breasts and running in a strip between her parted legs.

I creep forwards on my toes – a devilish smile working across my face. She doesn't notice me. She's too preoccupied with her training. I wriggle my fingers a little as I appear behind her, and draw my hand back.

"Saalie!" I swing my hand forwards, and land a solid smack right on her ass.

"Laze!" She squeals in surprise and pain, and she tumbles forwards. She lands between her legs, still with them spread wide. "Blaze-blaze!" she growls shortly, ending in a huff and mutter.

"Focus…" I taunt, holding an arm out to her. a playful grin overturns her face, and she lashes out at me. I can't pull my arm back fast enough, and she grabs me and flicks me over her head.

"Shi-"

_Thump._

"Ouch."

"Blaze." She smirks as she stands up, standing over me. She pokes her tongue out through her beak, and she strides away. She leaves me.

"Huh…" I grumble as I roll onto my stomach and climb to my feet again. "Ungrateful bitch."

Ungrateful's the word. Even with her perfection she _still_ manages to complain to me. "Tane, you could have at least given me some tits" is the most common one. She seems to forget she was designed for aerodynamics. Big breasts just aren't aerodynamic. Though in a few other ways – they'd be an improvement.

"Tane!"

**Crap…**

"Have you been interrupting Saalie again?"

From a doorway on my left, a boy a little shorter than he strides out. His golden blond hair only adds to his boyish appearance – making him look even younger. Especially as he irritably blows a few strands out of his eyes with a childish glower.

Behind him, I see Saalie appear with a big, teasing grin. She sticks her tongue out again.

"No." I lie with a shrug. "Why would I do that?"

"Because first – she's not training. And second – you're here. She came into my room and pointed in here."

I glare at her over his shoulder. "(Ratty bitch.)" I sneer – though all my brother hears is "Volraith-Vol". I try to refrain from doing it – but _damn _it feels good to say that. The word just rolls off my lips – it's sweet, like oral honey. It feels right to say it.

"(Aaw, sorry.)" She replies with an even bigger grin.

"Stop doing that." My brother growls.

"(He's getting shitty nowadays.)" I observe with a sly grin.

"(A little.)" Saalie shrugs.

"(A little?)" I chuckle. "(He's as shitty as you get on the twenty-third.)"

Her smile flattens in an instant. "(Don't you _even _go there!)" She growls.

"(Woah – you're kinda grumpy today.)" I laugh. "(Maybe your period's come early.)"

"(Asshole!)"

We both spin at the same time. She dashes after me, and I dash away in the opposite direction.

"Tane! Saalie!" My brother screams after us – making a doomed attempt to chase us.

I shoot into a nearby hallway – Saalie hot on my tail. Literally – I feel her heat behind me, and it's increasing.

"(Catch me, bitch!)" I bellow over my shoulder. I run straight into the wall – phasing – and jump through.

_Thump!_

I collapse when I land on the lawn at the back of our house. Not fatigue – no – just the sound of Saalie running into the wall behind me throws me into a fit.

I roll on my back for a moment – roaring with laughter and clutching my aching stomach. I can just picture he crashing into the wall behind me. Fucking brilliant…

After what seems like half an hour of side-splitting laughter, I pull myself from the ground – though the occasional giggle still catches me.

It's all in the name of fun. She might be a little bitter about the wall when I return tonight, but we'll still be on good terms with one another. It's all a big joke between us.

I stroll around the side of our house – staring up at the fourth floor as I go. That's what mum calls the "command deck". The place where she runs all her operations for all over the world. In a way – our house is Team Aqua HQ.

I stroll all the way down our huge driveway just glancing around randomly. A few gardeners catch my eye as they work on preening Pokémon-shaped bushes lining the driveway. At the end, I stop at a keypad in the huge stone gateway. I punch a quick code in, and wait a moment for the steel gates to slide away. At the tops of the watchtowers on either side of the gateway, I see the guards glance down at me.

**Substation.** I remember, turning right.

"Hey!"

I stop. I glance across the street to my left to see a girl my age strolling across.

Street kid by the looks of things. Her head is covered by a red and white baseball cap fitted backwards, and her golden fringe – much like my brother's – is parted to either side of her face. Beneath that she sports denim jeans, and a super-baggy beige t-shirt so huge the collar falls down her right shoulder a little. But even under all that material – I can tell she's got a _lot _going for her.

Hot.

"Hey, I was waiting for one of you to open up your gates." She smiles as she heads towards me. "Good to see a face on the street. I never want to touch the doorbells on these places. They're so huge…"

"Yeah." I agree, meeting her at the edge of the footpath. "Even I have to work up the nerve to go near the gate – and I live here. "

"Yeah, they're pretty huge." She nods, grinning at the massive gate behind me as it closes. "Hey – I'm not familiar with this part of town. Do you know where the old arena is?"

"The old one?" I glance over my shoulder with a murmur. "Um… head east along this road. This joins onto Teller street going east but it curves up north… then take the tenth road on the right, going east. Blytail avenue."

"East. Teller. Blytail." She nods. "Got it. Thanks."

"No problem." I nod, watching her head away east. "Hey – what's going on there, anyway? I heard something somewhere, but I wasn't paying attention."

"Ah…" She stops on the spot. She stays still for a moment, then answers carefully: "A convention…"

"Okay then…" I nod slightly. She turns and stares at me for a moment with a very different, almost scared expression – but she smiles suddenly and begins off. "Thanks."

"No problem." I nod, and wave briefly. I watch her go down the street for a moment, then I head quickly back to the gate. I punch in my code again and slid through the gates as soon as they're apart far enough for me for fit through.

I stride down the driveway very quickly, and through the front door. I hurry through the house – ignoring everyone else – and straight to the toilet.

Suddenly I need a moment alone. I don't know why – but I. Am. _Fired _up. I've seen hot girls before, but I have _never_ seen anyone as shatteringly attractive as that…

I don't know why I'm so turned on, but I just am. Really, _really_ turned on…

_I didn't make the connection at the time. The low cap, the attraction… it didn't register with me._

*Twenty minutes later*

I sigh as I stumble out of the bathroom again – fully relieved. I told myself I wouldn't masturbate through today with my date with Miri approaching tonight – but I just _had_ to.

I wipe my sweaty forehead and head back into the lounge – trying to remember where I was going.

**Filling in time. Going to the park for a few hours…**

"Afternoon."

I stop in the middle of the living room – cringing.

"Didn't see you there…" I confess, slowly turning to look over my shoulder. "Hey… mum…"

Most of her is hidden behind the newspaper she holds in front of her like a great shield, but I see the bandana. A shade of blue somewhere between a medium and an azure, and adorned with a white skull-and-crossbones at the front. Standard-issue Team Aqua attire.

She glances up after a moment. The eye that isn't hidden by her eyepatch narrows a little, and she inclines her head. "What's up?"

"Dunno." I shrug. I head across to the couch where she sits, and I fall onto it beside her. "Just thinking…"

"About what?" She folds a page across.

"Dunno… stuff." I shrug. "Hey – do you know what's going on at the old arena? This chick asked me for directions."

"I remember seeing it somewhere…" she pauses for a moment, and suddenly backtracks through her paper. She flips the pages across for a few seconds, then stops. "Here it is. V-meet."

"V-meet?" I reach across and take the paper from her.

"Sounds like you kind of place." She mentions with a grin. "Quite literally."

_V-meeting is adjourned?_

_The upcoming "V-meet" in Hedgehome district of Jubilife city has hit a snag today. The meeting put forward to local council late July by minister of interspecies relationships – Jonathan Utard –is scheduled for the seventh of August to "acquaint the growing Volraith community". According to Mr Utard "[The Volraiths] are a genuinely confused race. Shunned for a myriad of reasons – most unjustified – the majority tend to question their own validity in society. This meeting – the "V-meet" as it will be known – will bring the community together. This communication between the Volraith community will bring them together and give them a chance to learn what they are capable of, and to just talk things over with others who understand what they feel."_

_Immediately after the V-meet was confirmed, opposition reared its head – lobbying the council and calling for an annulment. Elected chairman of the un-named party – Christopher Wilks – commented: "We don't need [The Volraiths] to meet. There's no point, and it will only do more harm than good. Most of them have killed – in self-defence or otherwise – and are mentally deficient or unstable. Placing that many super-powered, unstable hybrid humans in one place __**cannot**__ be a good idea!" Mr Utard has noted the party's concerns, but his response is quite clear._

"_They need to meet. It will go on."_

_It is unclear whether lobbying will continue or if protest action is underway – but Mr Utard remains resolute that V-meet will continue._

_Alan Prescott._

"Holy shit…" I feel my jaw hit the floor as I gape at the paper. That girl out the front… she was like me…

**Of course!**

The cap pulled so far over her forehead – it hid her kill tally. That incredible sexual attraction toward her… that same incredible attraction that people feel towards me. She's like me…

**She's a volraith…** I mouth it, still dumbstruck. **She's like me, and I didn't even know. I let her leave just like that – but she was like me…**

"So are you gonna go?" Mum's voice pulls me back into the real world.

"Huh?"

"V-meet?" She shrugs as she takes the paper back, smiling a little. "Sounds like it might be a good idea."

"You're _serious."_ I raise my eyebrows – I can't believe this. "You're _**serious?"**_

"I don't see why not." She shrugs, though she's returned to her paper now. She looks preoccupied with an ad in the top right – but there's multitasking for you. Women. Talk and read.

"Because they're mostly criminals – all of whom have slaughtered Pokémon." I reply dryly. "I thought parents don't like their kids hanging out with the wrong crowd?"

She throws her head back, and a sharp cackle splits the air. "Please!" She chuckles, shaking her head. She looks across at me and lays the paper in her lap with a very amused grin. "Tane – you're a one-man wrong-crowd. _Hell – _you're worth _three_ wrong crowds– I doubt anyone else could bog you down any further."

My eyes narrow on her, and I feel a short growl slip between my lips. "Thanks for the support." I mention – but I manage to grin a little. **All in good fun…** "So… you're fine with me going?"

"Yeah." She takes her paper again. "Try not to accidentally set anything on fire." She adds as I stand from the couch.

"Purposely?" I ask over my shoulder – stopped mid-stride on my way to the door.

"Only if you have a good reason." She replies calmly. "Buh-bye." Her hand appears over the paper and flashes a quick wave.

"Kay." I nod with a smirk, and resume my route to the door. "See'ya mum."

**This is just nuts…** I clench my fists at my sides, staring at the entrance to the old arena. The carpark around me is practically deserted. There's even less cars parked here than usual – which is saying something.

The old arena's an old basketball complex – long since abandoned. Now it's just a community centre. Casual games of basketball are played in the weekends, meetings are held on the court throughout the week. The place is still upkept though, which is pretty great.

I collect another long breath, trying to settle myself. There's just so much going through my head. Sure – I'd like to find out about myself and the others – but what if I find something I don't want to know? What if I learn something horrible about being a Volraith? Maybe we die early, or go insane, or go blind or experience random pains or – fuck it; I'm just going in before I think about it too much. There's got to be good things to learn – even with all the murderers around.

The front entrance is a simple pair of sliding double glass doors – switched off and held open by the looks of things. At the entrance, two men dressed in black mutter between themselves. At their feet, a Mightyena and a Vaporeon. Both with type advantages against our kind…

I sink a pang of anger as I approach them – it's just for security. I shouldn't take offense…

**So why do I feel pissed off about it?**

I funnel my anger into my right fist and clench it at my side, squeezing my palm tightly. One of them points as I approach, and they fan across the entrance in front of me.

"Name." One lifts a list from his side. The sun glances off his empty, black lenses – showing no evidence of a soul behind them.

"Tane Chase." I say after a few seconds of reluctance. I hate telling people my name.

The man beside him straightens up after a moment as my name registers. The first man remains professional and shows no reaction. "Marks."

"What?"

"Your marks." He lifts his pen and jabs at the air – pointing to my head. "We need proof."

**Crap…** my shoulders slump a little. I hate taking my beanie off. I hate people seeing my marks – they always stare at me.

The other guard, however, comes to my aid. "Hey – he doesn't need to show marks."

"Why not?" Te other man throws him a sideways stare.

"That's Tane." He nudges his friend, glancing at me for a moment. "He's the _first _Volraith. Don't you remember it on the news?"

My eyes face the ground as the conversation goes on.

"Huh…" The other guard murmurs for a moment. I feel his eyes bore down on me – judging me from a new angle now. Judging me as the freak who first discovered human evolution. "Oh yeah – I remember his face now. Head on in." He steps aside.

"Thanks." I lift my head a bit.

Oddly enough – both guards smile a little, lifting my spirits. It takes me a few moments of confused staring to realise – they're both wearing hats.

"You two, too?" I straighten up and stagger back a bit.

"Yeah." They nod in unison. "We killed three Lucarios when a drunk guy tried to push into a bar down south. The guy sick'd his Pokémon on us – so we took them out."

"Figured we might as well – seeing as they're dead." The other continues. "So we became Vs."

"Vs?" I cock my head.

"Volraiths." They both say it at the same time. They glance across at one another with similar grins.

I know that grin. That's the "volraith" grin. The same grin that shows the same inner warmth I feel every time I say it. It feels so good to say – and these guys both know it.

"So head on in. I bet everyone would be thrilled to meet you."

"Yeah. They'd be all over you." The other chuckles.

"I'd… rather avoid that…" I scratch the back of my head, but I return a little grin.

"Then use a fake name." One suggests. "Something simple and easy to remember. Like Rob."

"All right." I grin a bit wider. If these guys are really murderers – they're the nicest damn murderers I've ever met.

I stride between the two guys with a growing smirk, and head into the reception area. That's the first time in a while I've ever really felt… talked to. It was like the three of us had this special… weird, bond. We were all the same…

_I was confused – and I let it all out to find _

_that I'm not the only person with these things in mind._

I head through the doorway into the court, still grinning.

"More of the same" gets a new meaning.

There are _dozens _of them. There has to be at least one-hundred of them – maybe more. They all hang about somewhere on the court. Most hold a plastic cup in one hand, taking gulps occasionally as they chat with others. Some I see at the far court – playing ball and leaping huge height with their superhuman strength and slamming the ball through the basket.

Some even have tails out. Grey, scaly tails rising from the back of their trousers and hanging by their feet, pointed tips flicking side-to-side on occasion or wagging about a little.

I glance over my shoulder with a thoughtful murmur as my own tail flicks about – making small waves in the back of my slacks. I usually try to ignore it. I stare for a few – deciding whether I'm comfortable with whipping it out.

**No… not yet.** It's still kind of surreal. The thought of it being visible is a little uncomforting still.

On that note – it seems there are others who aren't particularly comfortable. Most of us still wear hats of some description pulled over their foreheads and most keep their tails hidden, though a few discarded hats lying on the floor tell me that the discomfort must ease eventually. Then again, all the heads I can see are ones. Only one mark. One kill – from the Lucario.

"Hey, wassup?" Someone behind me calls.

I freeze. **That voice…**

"I thought I wouldn't find anyone my age here."

I turn around, managing a smile. "I should have figured."

It's the same girl from this afternoon. The really, really hot one. Even now I can feel the arousal setting in – though I've felt it from the second I entered. The girl's cap is gone and her golden blonde hair spills over her shoulders and down her back like a waterfall of honey. But then – down her forehead is a single scar. One.

She freezes for a moment and stares, registering what she's seeing. "You…" Her smile falls for a moment, but it reappears after it sinks in. "Hey! You gave me directions here! You never told me you were Volraith!"

"It isn't something I share." I shrug, smiling back. A real, proper smile. She's like me. All these people… they're all like me. For once – I'm not different.

"Yeah – I understand that." She glances over her shoulder. "Some people are bigots."

"Maybe they're jealous, maybe they're scared. Idunno. People feel weird things."

"Yeah, ae?" She nods quickly, then offers a hand. "Shawna."

"Rob." I nearly say "Tane" but I catch myself. I shake her hand. "Pretty weird feeling being here, huh?"

"Yeah." She nods and takes a quick scan of those people surrounding her. "It's surreal. All these people are Volraith…" She stops short, then returns her eyes to me. "Hey – do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

"Volraith." She says, smirking. Her eyes twinkle beautifully as the word sparks her soul. "Every time I say it – it's just like… amazing."

**She gets it too…?**

"Yeah, I feel it too, actually." I confirm happily. She gets it too. Like me. She understands.

"Volraith…" Her smile reaches high, and her gaze drifts to the roof as it to follow her words into the air. "Volraith…"

"Volraith…" I repeat, grinning dumbly. "Just rolls off the tongue."

"I love saying it…" She adds. "(Hey, we should talk like this! It'll be great.)"

"(Sure thing.)" I reply in poké-speak. Again – there's that warmth of saying "Volraith" repeatedly.

"(Come on. Let's go watch the game.)" She lifts her arm high above her head, and points one finger to the far end court. "(We can watch them and chat.)"

"(Alright.)" I nod, and follow her. We weave our way through the crowd heading to the end. I hear titbits of conversations in poké-speak. I hear their words properly, but I also hear it with human senses. So I hear "tonight I'm going to this club" and "Volraith Vol-Volraith" at the same time. Somehow I manage to keep a migraine at bay, despite the overwhelming noises.

Shawna leads me to a bench alongside the court and sits at one end. I sit halfway along and lean forwards.

"(So – how long have you been a Volraith?)"

"(I evolved shortly after evolution was discovered.)" I reply after a moment's thought, fabricating a tale to keep my identity secret. "(I was attacked by a Lucario who liked my girlfriend and wanted her. So there was a fight… after that, you can sort of tell what happened…)"

"(Is your girlfriend okay?)" She asks after a short silence. I smile a bit wider as I identify it as a cleverly disguised alternate question. Do you have a girlfriend still? She doesn't care about my girlfriend – she just wants to know if I'm single.

**Score**.

"(We aren't going out anymore.)" I reply – giving her the answer she's looking for. "(But she was okay. A bit scared, but she was okay.)"

"(That's pretty crazy.)" She mentions idly, nodding as she watches the game. "(But me? I didn't actually _kill_ a Lucario.)"

"(What happened?)" I ask a bit quickly. Something finally sets in. This wonderful, super-hot Volraith chick is probably a cold, calculating killer.

I feel my hear sink a few levels with the realisation… **Shit…**

"(My dad had a Lucario.)" She explains, releasing a weary sigh. "(My dad died six months ago. Ever since then his Lucario went downhill. He got sick and started deteriorating.)"

I lift my head a bit. This isn't the usual excuse for killing a Lucario that murderers give.

"(He became really, _really_ sick. He got to the stage where he could barely even move…)" Shawna trails off into silence after that. Her head falls and her eyes drop to her feet. "(He hated it. He asked to be put down – but he made me an offer first. You see – I only had him left. I lived in a common house. No relatives, I had no friends – I had nobody but myself and him. So I guess he figured that he would do me a favour, and he offered his blood to me after he died. He said I'd have to depend on myself now – and that being a Volraith would make things easier for me…)"

"(Oh, damn…)" I stare blankly at her, trying to piece together how she must feel. Maybe I believe her story… maybe… okay, I do. You can't make up something like that, and the way she mopes is evidence enough that she's telling the truth.

"(Sorry 'bout that.)" She straightens up suddenly, lifting a smile again. "(That was a bit heavy. My bad.)"

"(Nah. No worries.)" I smile back, in an instant bringing back the hand I was about to place on her shoulder to comfort her. **Whoa, this chick is nuts… **

**I like…**

We sit back for a somewhat awkward moment as my badly-covered move is still fresh in both our memories. I lock my fingers together and stare at my feet as I slowly feel my face flush red. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her beaming at me.

She saw right through my cover-up. **D'oh…**

"(Sorry – I shouldn't act like that.)" She chuckles after a moment. "(I'm just random sometimes. Up and down – bouncing off the walls.)"

"(No kidding…)" I glance up for a fleeting moment in an attempt to shift the direction of the conversation. "(Hey – speaking of bouncing – do you wanna play?)" I stand up quickly. it's not like I'm going to run away – but I like to be in the position where I can if I need to.

"(What, you assume just because I dress in baggy clothing and wear a cap that I play basketball?)" She laughs herself to her feet. "(Ah – stereotypical, typical me. Let's go then.)" She nods to confirm, and strides onto the court.

We take sides on opposite teams after the guys call us on. Four aside. I end up being the shortest on our team, playing alongside two guys a little older than me and a woman who looks about thirty. On the team Shawna plays with, three guys dressed similarly who look just above my age. Probably friends…

I may not be the best at basketball in the world – but I have an advantage on everyone else.

Experience. Because I've been a Volraith the longest.

At the very start of the game, the guys on the other team clear the air pretty quickly – showing me that it _isn't _a game of skill today as they practically bash their way through our defence. The second to receive the ball drops his shoulder as he runs and barges one of my teammates out of the way as he dribbles through, then he leaps from the circle and slam-dunks it through the hoop.

"(Yeah bitch! Who's your daddy?)"

**The ex-leader of Team Aqua, motherfucker!** I think with a smirk as I watch him drop from the net. **But you don't need to know that.**

"(What's this all about?)" Shawna grins as her teammate returns. "(Prison rules?)"

"(What else?)" The guy laughs. He falls to a low position, grabbing his knees. He watches the woman on our team go to retrieve the ball – rocking side-to-side a little in his position.

"(They've been playing like this all through the game.)" I turn to my left to find one of my teammates heading for me. He stops beside me and frowns at the other team. "(Playing rough.)"

"(So?)" I shrug, grinning. "(What do you do if a Poocheyena shits in your cereal?)"

"(Um…)"

"(You rub his fucking nose in it.)" I grin wider and turn to the woman. She passes the ball after a brief inspection of the sly look on my face, but backs away a little. "(You give him a taste of his own shit and see how he likes it.)"

"(Already tried.)" The guy sighs – a total buzzkill tone. "(That guy in the middle. He whipped off his cap earlier in the game when he was boasting. He's a three. Three marks.)"

"(Three?)" I quickly turn to the guy.

"(We're all ones.)" He sighs. He's still being a downer.

"(Three…)" I drone, slowly turning towards the opponent in question.

"(Hurry up!)" He shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth. "(Fucking hell… come on! Go!)"

He's a three. That means he's killed two more. To make a long story short – there's a _huge_ chance that he's a heartless killer. Killing _one_ Lucario is something that happens sometimes in self-defence, but killing another _two_ after that? That's not normal – unless he's doing something like I am. Which I highly doubt.

I feel my lips tug into a growl at his next taunt. **That's it. This guy's getting it.**

I hold the basketball in one hand – and hold my arm outstretched. A coy grin stretches across my face, and I tilt my hand. The ball seems to fall in slow motion from my hand, distorting time as it nears the ground. Everyone's eyes follow it.

_Thump._

Time lurches forwards again and slow-motion jerks up to speed as my opponents rush forwards as a wave. All straight for me – head on.

The first to arrive drops his shoulder like he did previously. His arms fly out in front of him in a form more suited to a rugby-tackle.

I swat the ball right, and make a swift sidestep to follow it. I phase my body partially to minimise air resistance, and practically glide out of the way. Shock fills his eyes as he hurtles past – but I go one better. As I reach one hand out to meet the ball, I throw my free hand back onto his back – shunting him sideways.

As I move forwards, I hear his cry of surprise as he hits the floor.

**One down.**

The second charges at me similarly, but a bit slower and he hasn't lowered his body. He watches me – ready to follow my movements. **No problem.** I slam the ball down at his feet, making a quick step backwards. His eyes fly wide as the ball slams up into his gut painfully, and he doubles over forwards. As his upper body falls, I jump forwards and land on him. My right foot lands on his neck and my left foot lands on his shoulder, and I jump off his back like a springboard. To put on a show – I even throw myself into a forwards flip as he falls flat on his face behind me – kicked down by my jump.

**Two down.** I grin over my shoulder as I land, grabbing the ball from the ground behind me.

As I look up, I notice the third guy is waiting back. **Smart boy**i think with a grin, taking note of the sheer shock wrought across his face. I dribble the ball rapidly at my side and run at him, staying very low. At a long distance, I suddenly bring my arm and the ball up high, and I slam it down with epic force. The boy's head flicks back as his eyes try to follow the ball shooting above his head. His head's tilted back so much he doesn't even notice me running at him. Somewhat like the second boy, I leap at this one. I leap right up onto his shoulder as he's busy staring at the ball, and I leapt off from there – kicking him forwards as I push off.

**Three down!** I let a manic grin fill my face as I soar through the air in a perfect arc towards the net. "(Three-pointer-slam-du-_uughh-_)" A sudden strike to my right smacks the breath out of me. my trajectory's thrown off sideways as I fly towards the net, and the ball tumbles from my hands. "(Shit!)"

My entire right side flares up with a huge pain as I crash into the backboard. I flail my arms but catch nothing. My foot catches on the net as I fall and pitches me forwards.

_Thump._

I land flat on my face. Literally.

"(Fuck!)" I roll onto my front and clutch my nose, swearing under my breath. _"(fuck, fuck, fuck!)"_ I wipe m yhand away with a grimace. No blood – fortunately. One of the advantages of being a Pokémon. It's quite a chore to damage you. Hurt – easy as anything, but to _damage _a Pokémon requires another Pokémon.

As I look up again, I catch a glimmer of gold as Shawna's hair flutters. Her frame launches clear off the ground and right up to the net, and she slams it through.

"(Yeah, baby!)" he drops from the net and immediately punches the air as she lands. She turns around with a huge smirk, and begins towards me as her aching team lifts themselves to their feet. "(Didn't hurt you too bad, did i?)" She strides across the court and stops in front of me, holding a hand down to me.

"(I've been hit by girls before – but _damn_ that took the cake.)" I laugh, and I take her hand. She pulls me to my feet as if I weigh nothing and beams at me.

"(You sure you're okay?)"

"(I've taken much worse.)" I nod.

"(The fuck!)"

"(That was amazing.)" She remembers as she hears her teammate. She glances over her shoulder for a moment, then back to me.

I see it. They gleam in the overhead light. That thing I couldn't put my eye on. She has two sharp, pointed teeth either side of her front teeth. Like little fangs.

**Aaw, cute.**

"(How'd you do that?)"

"(I got skills)" I shrug. "(Plus I've had a bit of experience with running… and jumping. _Especially jumping…)"_ I refrain from mentioning "fifty floors out of an apartment building".

"(What the hell was that?)" Shawna's outraged teammate appears over her shoulder. Doesn't look happy…

"(Prison rules.)"

"(Oh, I see.)" He grunts. "(You're a smart ass? You think you can just waltz in here and shove me around?)" He strides forwards – swaggering outrageously. "(You think you're tough?)"

"(Hell of a lot tougher than you.)" I retort calmly – but I add a cheeky smirk just to piss him off.

"(You wanna start something?)" I nearly flinch as his arm raises – but it flies to his head. It grabs hold of the front of his cap, and it tears it off.

Three.

"(How about that?)" He throws his arms wide with a sneer. "(Huh? Three, bitch!)"

"(Well I hate to disappoint you -)" I smirk a bit wider, "(But if the number three's really such a huge number to you, I doubt you could count this high.)"

"(Try me.)"

It's at that moment I notice everyone staring at me. It's like the whole place has just frozen and I staring at us. Eyes everywhere have fallen on the two of us – drawn by the other guy's shouting. Whispers… whispers filter through the crowd. Shock, surprise, excitement. They think something's about to go down.

Everyone's staring at me expectantly. Waiting for me to make a move. Back down or take the challenge.

"(Try to keep up.)" I reach up, grab my beanie, and tear it away.

It's not like me. It's nothing like me to draw attention – but suddenly I'm determined. Determined I'm not going to let this punk push me around and belittle me. _I_ am the big man – and he's the scrawny little prick.

The crowd rises in volume for a moment as more shock and awe is shared between its persons. They gasp and fight their way to the front to see me. They stand on chairs to get a look. They stare and gawk and they marvel at me.

The boy in front of me backs off a little. He remains frozen for a moment before he regains himself. "Huh – what do you use to do that? Costume makeup or Plast-"

"(You wanna know, asshole?)" I cut him off. "(You wanna know what I use to do that? Motherfucking blood.)"

My arm phases out slightly as it raises, glowing black around it. A shadowy trail follows it as I swing it out, and land it palm-flat in the boy's gut. The surrounding energy explodes from my palm and throws him across the room. His limbs flail madly as he arcs across the court, and he crashes into the backboard opposite. His flailing body collides with a dull _thump_, and falls onto the net where it hangs limply off the rim.

"(And that – is why you don't piss me off.)" I cross my arms and lean back a little. That felt _so _good…

Then there's something to bring me back. A familiar golden-haired head appears around the side of my face. Her eyes are wide as she reads my tally, and she stumbles back a little.

"Whoa…"

**Oh… shit…**

Fear strikes across her face. She turns suddenly – and she runs.

"Wait up!" I call as she sprints in the opposite direction. "Shawna! Wait! I can explain!"

The crowd splits apart as she rushes into them – charging away from me. They spread apart even further as I follow her – tugging my beanie back on as I go.

**Shit shit shit! What have I done? She thinks I'm a criminal!**

"Shawna!" I race into the carpark after her. I skid to a stop a few metres out the door and glance around frantically – but she's nowhere to be seen.

The air chills around me as night descends, and the horizon throws an eerie shadow across me. it rolls like a wave from the distance, and washes across me in an instant. The city is blanketed in dusk.

My arms fall limp and my breath runs short, and I suddenly find myself panting. I look around hopelessly as a despairing whimper escapes my throat.

The guards at the door are gone. The carpark is a concrete jungle without a person in sight.

I thought I had made a friend. I was wrong.

"Shawna?" I call – one last time. My call rolls emptily across the pavement, and out onto the deserted road. Nothing answers – save my own lonely echo. The lonely, desperate cry of my own voice.

Suddenly – as the city rests its weary head to sleep. Suddenly – as my warm heart snap-freezes in my chest. Suddenly – as the memory of what it feels like to be happy drifts from my mind… I realise.

I'm all alone.

**Author's notes: This chapter's song is "Somewhere I belong" by Linkin Park. It has that great, soft beat that builds up into this nice, quick techno-ish pace. A sort of lamenting tune, but the beat is sort of following in the background – ready to burst out. It's all spoken thought – it words great for this chapter.**

**I'm a fan of Linkin Park, so expect a few references to songs or albums. Also a fan of some Eminem songs. Not a rap fan, but I love how he puts messages across. Plus the titles are great.**

**Anywho –Please review or comment. Reviews are like… dope for the writing soul. Good stuff. I love criticism as it gives me something to look at and improve on. I also like to know what kind of people read my stuff – so chances are that if you have a profile I'll probably sift through and maybe R&R something of yours if you spark my interest. And I usually leave **_**huge**_** reviews, too. I often run out of characters… damn limitations.**


	4. Chasing Cars

Chapter 4

Chasing cars.

"I fucked up…"

"(Please Tane – what happened?)_"_ Rissa begs yet again. I hear a touch of a whine enter her voice. She's never seen me like this.

"She was just like me…" My voice comes muffled through the pillow I've buried my head in. I just… don't want to be seen, and so I hide myself under my covers and hide my face in my pillow. I feel moisture creeping down my face as it soaks through my pillow. "She was beautiful, and she was funny and nice and… I fucked it up. She saw my tally. She thinks I'm a psycho killer…"

And I still don't understand why I did it. It's so unlike me to accept a challenge. I should have just apologised and let it slide – but I couldn't. I _couldn't_. Something compelled me to step up to the opponent and beat him. No – not just beat him. Everyone had to see it. Everyone had to see I was stronger… that was what I felt. I felt I had to show my pow-

"Oh, shit…" I realise, ending in a long groan.

"(What is it?)"

"I get it…" I sob into my pillow. I snivel a little as I feel tears still dripping down my face. "It's… I've got an alpha complex…"

No reply comes from anyone behind me. They have no idea.

"Alpha complex…" I sniff again. "That girl… Shawna… she was so great – but this _dickhead_ comes along and gives me crap. I was _showing off_ in front of her. I wanted her to see I was stronger than him…"

I wince and stifle an outburst as something strikes me across the head. "(You're such an idiot, Tane…)" Comes a soothing, empathetic sigh. I feel a shape rustle across the covers and crawl up beside me. in a moment – more scramble all over my bed. A larger figure on either side, and smaller ones lying all over me. My pillow shuffles a bit as one lies across the head of my bed.

Their arms are on me. Every one of them wraps their arms around me as much as they can, and cuddles in as close as they can. They cling tight and wrap me up in their bodies –every one of them sharing their auras with me to settle me.

But how can I be settled? "I've just fucked up my one shot at finding a friend like me. I was overcome by my _stupid fucking urges!"_

I feel the bodies recoils quickly. It takes a few seconds of awkward silence and my words ringing fresh in my memory for me to realise I was speaking out loud.

"Sorry, guys." I sigh as I roll onto my back. "And sorry Rissa – since you're not a guy… 'cause you got tits."

She sits upright with a grin. I feel her wagging tail bump against my leg under my blanket as it swishes across them. _"He's recovering."_ She decides – but switches to private telepathy to comment: _"And don't look at my tits, you paedophile. You're like – fifty-four times my age."_

"I can if I want to." I smile faintly and shuffle to sit upright. "Until you get a sentiency test – I totally own you."

"_Pervert."_ She pokes her tongue out and slaps my knee playfully.

"You guys – leave me be with Rissa, can you?" I look between them – prepared for their various disappointments. "She's known me for the longest. I need some time alone with her."

"(Don't we all.)" One Lucario mentions – not _quite_ under his breath. Rissa's ear twitches and she throws him a vile look over her shoulder as he and the other 'rios leave. 'Rios being Luca_rio_s and _Rio_lu.

"_Males. You're all so single-minded."_

"Duh."

She turns back to me as her smile returns, and she throws a leg over my body. She shuffles up me a little, and then falls forwards to lie on my stomach. She presses her muzzle into my neck and nuzzles into it with a purr – holding my shoulders down with her paws.

"_There'll be more opportunities."_ She reassures me. _"It's only been a few months since your evolution. You'll meet more of you some time. Maybe her again – but she's not the only one out there."_

"(I guess.)" I sigh. I drop my head back into my pillow and stare at the roof. "(Still… … … aw, Idunno. I'm confusing myself.)"

"(It's fun, isn't it?)" Rissa suddenly pulls back. "(Our speech. Saying the same word over and over again, yet saying so many other things at the same time… Lucario, Lucario, Lucario…)"

"(Yeah…)" I nod, riding a small wave of warmth at simply saying "Volraith". "(Feels good…)"

"(You know what else feels good?)" She shuffles up my body a little further, moving her paws further over my shoulders. "(This…)"

Another grin rises to my lips as I feel her claws slide free and onto my skin. She pricks me lightly on the shoulders, and she begins rubbing. "(Yeah… that _does_ feel good…)"

"(It's probably just what you need right about now.)" She continues as she massages just at the top of my back and down my collar. "(Stress relief. Loosen up and release your tension and all that physiotherapy stuff.)"

"(Yeah…)" I agree with a dumb nod – but I don't move too much. There's no reason to do anything other than just lie here and enjoy myself right now…

"Hey, Tane?"

"Crap…" I reluctantly pry an eye open and direct my most hateful "you're interrupting me" glare at my younger brother.

He takes it as cause for entry, and slips through my doorway. "Annabel's served dinner. Yours is on the counter for when you need it."

"Kay." I nod faintly, and drop my head back on my pillow.

I hear a quiet creaking after I close my eyes. "Hey – are you alright?" I feel a weight land on my bed beside me.

"Idunno, Ryan. Idunno." I shrug hopelessly. "I'm just… I've got a lot on my mind right now. That's all."

"All right." He sighs. I feel his body lift off my mattress as he stands again. "If you need to just talk or something – I'm here. Okay?"

"Okay, bro." I nod a little. "Thanks."

"No problem." His quiet footsteps retreat now. Then there's the quiet, subtle squeal of my door easing closed. But it doesn't click. It stops for a moment, then screeches in a different tone. The "door opening" squeal. "Hey – just a question…"

"Shoot."

"Who's that gardener we have? The Unovan one? Long hair."

I open one eye. "You mean Ron?"

"Ron…" He nods slowly – paused at the doorway. "Yeah – I thought it was Ron."

"Why do you ask?"

"Just this girl." He shrugs. "Asking for "Rob". I told her there was no Rob here – but I thought I might-"

I launch halfway out of bed as it clicks. Rissa squeals as she flies through the air and over the foot of my bed – landing with a _thud_ on the floor.

"How long ago?" I dash towards him. "The girl? How long ago was she here?"

"Whoa! Tane! Settle!" He backs away suddenly – surprised by my sudden move. "Idunno… a few minutes ago when I was walking through the gate. She was waiting across the street and called me o-"

"Where'd she go? Which direction?"

He backs into the wall opposite my door – a little red. "I don't know – um… east!"

"I'll be back later!" I spin on m heel and charge.

"Tane! Where are-"

I dive straight through the wall. I phasejump straight through the foot-thick outer wall of a second story bedroom, and fall to the ground below.

A few of the ground staff still hanging around call in surprise as I crash down onto the pavement– but I ignore them and start running. I don't run for the gate – I run straight for the corner of the property to the south-east.

**Shawna! You came back!** a huge grin passes my face as I leap through our boundary fence and onto the pavement outside. A car's horn blares in surprise as I shoot out in front of it, but I phaserun straight through the middle of it as it slams on the brakes.

"Hey!" The driver yells to me.

I ignore them, and keep running.

**Shawna! I can explain it!** My head spins and whirrs as I rush along the sidewalk, shooting past the estates and mansions lining my street. **She came back! She's giving me a chance!**

**But I have to catch her!**

I pick up my pace with a growl. I'm fast, but I'm no match for a car. If she's got a vehicle I have to reach her first! She can't have gone too far.** Shit! Just if my bike wasn't in the shop!**

The street ahead of me glows suddenly. My shadow appears at my feet as a pair of headlights cut through the darkness, and it stretches out ahead of me.

"Hey!"

**Crap!** I glance over my shoulder – but the headlights blind me. The car driver I jumped out in front of isn't happy. **Great. Now he's going to give me hell.**

I turn ahead again, and I shut my eyes for a moment. Think air – think of weightlessness. Think of being surrounded by nothing – no obstacles to stop me. Pull my body from the physical world and into spirit – a world where nothing will hinder me other than my own willpower.

I surge forwards as my body phases again – eliminating any wind resistance. Using my own energy, I push myself forwards as I run – gliding across the ground like a ghost. The bushes and gates shoot and whizz past me on either side of the road, and my shadow stretches back to my feet as I escape the car pursuing me.

**Where is she? This is east – right?**

I continue running at full-tilt for about a minute. In that minute, the idea that I can still catch up is still burned into the front of my brain – however unlikely it is that she could get so far in such a short timeframe.

It takes a wall of traffic to derail my train of thought and stop my hopes in their tracks. I skid to a stop as my breath dries up, and every puff for oxygen scalds the back of my throat. My energy decides to fail me at that very moment – and I collapse forwards onto my knees.

Cars. Cars, trucks, buses – they shoot past in front of me like a great, moving wall of hopelessness. She's gone. She's disappeared into commerce and gridlock – and she's gone.

Hopes dashed yet again – I collapse on the curb. It finally hits me – she can't have possibly run this far. I'm so fast – she couldn't have possibly run this far. She's taken a car somewhere along the way – and she's left.

I've wasted my one shot at finding her and explaining…

_Let's waste time – chasing cars… around our heads._

If only.

**If only I hadn't used that **_**stupid**_** fake name!** I growl and smash a fist into the concrete beside me. the pain splits my entire arm – but nothing's damaged. **If only I hadn't pulled off my **_**fucking **_**beanie and shown her my tally and scared her!** My fist rises again, and smashes back into the concrete. The sidewalk paving shatters under my fist – exploding into a tiny rain of sharp, pointy fragments that slit my knuckles as they pound them. **If only I had spent my time walking around outside instead of **_**fucking **_**crying my room! I could have seen her! **For the third time, my fist smashes the pavement. The rest of the cracked footpath breaks apart on impact, and detaches itself from the surrounding area.

And to make matters worse – a light sweeps across me from behind. I glance up at my shadow as it swings up and out as the vehicle pulls up behind me – illuminating my blood-stained knuckles and my feral snarl.

It's the same car I jumped out in front of. The pissed-off driver's come back for a piece of me.

**Oh, man. This guy picked the **_**wrong **_**moment to fuck with me.** I growl as I stagger to my feet. I can't see the driver since the headlights blind me, but I see their door swing open and I see them climb out.

"What?" I demand as I uneasily stagger towards the person. I can barely walk – let alone fight like this, but I'm forced on by sheer rage at myself.

The door closes with a soft _thud_, and the silhouette stalks towards me from the shadows. "Rob?"

"Shawna?" My legs buckle – and I collapse forwards. The shadow bursts forwards to catch me. Like an angel breaking free of hell, her golden hair bursts from the darkness and into the light. Her arms swing under me as I fall – catching me around the waist. "You came back…"

She eases me down to the pavement, and she lies me on my back. "(I did.)" She nods a little, kneeling at my side. I can see her face from here. Lifeless and pale. Afraid and confused – but her eyes twinkle with a glimmer of hope. "(You said – as you chased me – you could explain. So explain. Why do you have so many tallies?)"

"(I…)" I stammer painfully. My chest constricts from fatigue, and my heart lurches at the crippling lack of energy. Phaserunning alone takes a lot of energy – but boosting myself to speeds like that _really _drains me. "(I… can you take me home… so I can… explain?)"

"(No Rob, tell me now.)" She demands – surprisingly sternly.

"(I… can't…)" I manage after a few deep breaths.

"(Why not?)"

"(B-because… I think I'm aboo_oooo-_)_"_

Black.

Something… something heavy on the side of my bed. Something weighing it down a little… **What time is it? Morning?**

"Morning Rissa…" I yawn, and stretch my arm wide.

"(Evening, Rob.)" The voice is as cold as ice. I leap upright in a second as my heart nearly leaps out of my chest. "(Or should I say – Tane?)"

Shawna sits on the edge of my bed with her legs crossed. Same clothing as she wore earlier. Same cap pulled over my head. A very different, angry scowl spread across her face. No – not angry. Disappointed.

"(Your family let me in after I turned up at your gate.)"

"(That was you in that car…)" I realise. "(Oh, Arceus – I didn't-)"

"(Explain.)" She growls – taking me off guard. "(I want you to explain.)"

"(Ah – the tallies.)"

"(Yes the tallies.)" She nods sternly. "(Twenty-one. That's a _huge_ tally.)"

"(I get it…)" I sigh. It's difficult to be so calm and act so grim when I'm bursting with joy on the inside. "(You think I'm a criminal Pokémon-killer.)"

"(That's the most obvious explanation.)" She agrees. "(And don't try anything – you may be powerful, but you're still weak from using all your energy. Try it and I'll kill you where you sit.)"

I think better than to argue with that. Last time I accepted a challenge… well, this happened.

"(I'm Tane Chase.)" I begin – sighing deeply as I sift through my memories. I've only told this story a couple of times, but I remember the whole thing word-for-word nearly. "(I was the very first Volraith.)"

"(The first?)" Shawna's brow rises. "(The one who first killed that Lucario and drank its blood?)"

"(It wasn't quite like that…)" I shake my head briskly. "(We got into an argument. It turned really nasty, and ended up as a fight. He nearly killed _me_ – but I got him at the last second. I killed him – but his body fell on top of me. I was weak from his beating so I couldn't even push his body off me – hell I could barely even move. Then blood started seeping from his mouth – and dripping into mine. I tried to keep my mouth closed – but I passed out. My mouth fell open as I was unconscious, so I ingested the blood. I was acquitted since it was obvious I killed him in self-defence. Shortly after that – I discovered my powers. Just in time too – I was attacked by a couple of hard-core pro-Pokémon psychos who figured my killing the Lucario was unjustified, and they sicked their Pokémon on me. Lucky for me – their Pokémon weren't exceptionally strong, and it turned out that I – being ghost-fire type – had a type advantage. I killed their Pokémon and scared them off – but I had another idea. I drank _those_Pokémons' blood.)"

Shawna's eyes remain on me the whole time. They don't even move – save to occasionally blink. Totally blank and expressionless.

"(Then I discovered the three tally marks on my head. I put two and two together soon after I discovered that my powers were much stronger after killing the two. It wasn't long before I lost control of my powers in public. My hand randomly burst into flames one day – but I survived without a scratch. People called the police and everything – and in hours I had the feds after me. Luckily my brother, Lance, stopped them and rescued me.)"

"(You're brother's Lance?)" Shawna's brow raises again. I nod.

"(He cleared things up with the feds and ordered them to keep them off me – but word still got out. Soon enough the media were all over me. I managed to fend them off eventually – but the media learned about the "Volraith" thing. Soon after, someone else drank a Lucario's blood. Sure enough – he became a Volraith. Word _really_ got out, and Volraiths suddenly began to appear everywhere. I worked in the day-care at the time – and I still do – and I noticed a big rise in the numbers of Lucarios placed in the day-care to breed. On a hunch – I visited a trainer's house just at the time the egg was due to hatch. I saw through his window – he pulled a knife just as it hatched. So I jumped through his window and stopped him. He released his Pokémon and there was a fight. I fought alongside Rissa – my Lucario I met a week earlier – and killed him and his Pokémon in there. I drank the Pokémons' blood, and so I gained another two tallies. I then took the Riolu home and raised him as my own. For the last two months, that's what I've been doing. And that's why I have so many tallies.)" I stop to pull off my beanie and point at them. "(I head to people's houses when their eggs are due to hatch and watch them. If they try to kill the Riolu – I interrupt them and kill them and whatever Pokémon they send out to attack me. For the last two months I've been digging through my "lawyer fund" to have a lawyer fight my cases for me – justifying my killings. And trust me – it takes an expensive but _amazing_ lawyer to keep me on the right side of prison bars. But so far I've made it – thanks to him.)"

I end on that note, dropping my hands to my knees with a sigh.

Shawna sighs and looks down to her crossed legs. "(Can't make up something like that…)" She bites her lip for a moment, keeping her eyes averted away from me. "(I must look like a right bitch.)"

"(I'm sorry?)" I jerk my head back a bit. **How? What?**

"(Here's me – thinking you're a murderous criminal when all along you're a proactive Pokémon-rescuing superhero.)" Something twangs inside me on that last word. "(I thought you were a horrible person – but what do you know – you've got to be the most god-damn brave person I've ever met!)"

"(Yeah…)" I murmur unsurely and look at my own feet. Seems both of us have fallen into awkwardness now. "(There's a fine line between "superhero" and "monster".)"

"(After hearing that – I'd say you're far from being a monster.)"

There she goes – stirring that same, brilliant warm feeling deep in my chest. I look up with a faint smile – only to find her doing the same.

"(I'm sorry…)" She apologises.

"(It's okay.)" I nod slowly. "(If I was in your position, I would have thought the same. Hell – I probably would have attacked me. That's half the reason I beat up that basketball guy. Chances are he's the killer – so that's why I accepted his challenge and attacked him.)"

"(Really.)" Shawna's smile returns. That same, delightful, coy grin I saw on her earlier today. "(You sure there isn't another reason?)"

"('m sure.)" I nod, but I can feel my cheeks heating a little in embarrassment. She's onto it…

"(Don't lie to me.)" She chuckles. A sweet, joyous melody. "(You two were like a couple of Stantler butting heads. You've got an alpha instinct.)"

"(_Mmeh..mmhm… a little…)"_ I admit after a moment of grumbling. I shrug nervously.

"(Hey – don't be like that.)" Her hand lands on my shoulder. "(We all feel crazy stuff as Volraiths. Crazy animalistic stuff. Like – I get overwhelming urges to lick people's faces if they're really nice to me. Hell – I have to hold myself back to keep myself from chasing after small shiny things!)" She ends in a short giggle. Not a "naughty flirty" giggle, but a genuinely amused giggle.

I smile wider in return, nodding. "(Ah – damn those shiny things. I know the feeling. They're so hard to resist.)" Really. They're just so… glittery and sparkly and they bounce and roll about everywhere and… I just _have_ to get them!

"(Thank god…)" Her body just – loosens after my comment. "(Sometimes I just feel weird. It's just great to know someone else gets it too.)"

"(It's nice to have someone who understands.)" I agree – grinning similarly. "(It's like going through puberty again. So many crazy urges and desires to resist. They're just so strange sometimes…)"

"Vol." She nods feverishly. Her fangs glint again in my ceiling light. They're just so cute…

"(Yeah – like that.)" I chuckle. "(Whenever someone says something – I just want to reply "Vol" every time. Even if it isn't a question.)"

"(But it feels so good to follow those weird things, ae?)"

"(Yeah – it feels great.)"

She nods a little more. She unfolds her legs now, and she lies across the foot of my bed on her side. Her hand goes to her head and tips her cap, and she tosses it aside.

"(Watca doing?)"

"(I wanna lie down.)" She shrugs. She reaches the same hand down her back now. After a second of fumbling a little, it returns – holding her tail. "(Let it hang, y'know?)"

"(Um… yeah…)" I nod slowly. **Does she expect-**

"(Just do it.)" She nods encouragingly – showing her fangs again as she grins. "(We're both Volraith. We won't judge – right? It feels good.)" Her tail rises behind her to illustrate, and she flicks it about a little.

"(I usually resist my urges…)" I confess after an awkward moment. "(I like to hide my tail…)"

Her mouth falls a little. "(Even on your own?)" She gasps. "(You don't let your tail out or you're your beanie off? You don't just… jump on shiny things? Even when there's nobody around?)"

"(Um… yeah.)" The way she stares… it's like I'm a nut-case. "(I try to retain my… human-ness.)"

"(But why?)" She shrugs elaborately – clearly not understanding my thoughts.

"(I don't want to act _too_ Pokémon-ish.)" I grit my teeth nervously

My anxiety is immediately washed away as Shawna throws her head back with a cackle. "(Oh – you have _no idea_…)" She purrs. I note a delighted gleam in her eye as she slides bit closer towards me – but still lying down. "(You aren't a human acting like a Pokémon – you're a _Pokémon_ who's acting like a _human_.)"

"(I don't-)"

"(You evolved.)" She cuts in. "(You're a _Pokémon_, so stop thinking you're a human! Sure – you can act like a human in public to make things easier – but in your own time you're a _Pokémon_. You have to enjoy those moments where you can just… be an idiot. Enjoy those moments where you can be a Pokémon!)"

She slides up a bit further, and she lies on the covers beside me. "(Like so…)" She suddenly moves in a bit closer – and she drops her head into my lap. "(Like this…)"

**The… the fuck?** I stare down at her – immersed in stunned silence. She practically nuzzles into my belly – pulling herself slowly into my lap as I'm stuck sitting against my bed's backboard.

"(You gotta get loose.)" She purrs. She crawls up my stomach and pushes me back against the wall, and she sits in my lap with a playful grin. "(Loosen up)"

And she leans forwards – and she licks my face. She holds my shoulders against the wall, and drags her smooth, warm tongue up my cheek. She smothers half my face in heavenly warmth as she attends to me – still purring in pleasure. God it feels magical…

"(Hehe… stop it…)" I grin and shy away from her after a moment. "(Hey – cut it…)" I paw at her face lightly. I get a smear of saliva across my palm as she darts for it and licks it too. I laugh a bit and paw with my other hand – same story. I press myself as far back as I can go as a helpless giggle escapes me – feeling her descend on me. She grabs my upper arms and pins me against the backboard, and she licks right from my shoulder up to my cheek – throwing me into a crazy giggling fit.

**Stuff it!**

I lunge forwards a little as she retreats – and I touch my own tongue to her cheek. Her hand appears immediately and swats me aside.

"(Nuh-uh…)" She teases as she sits back in my lap, wagging a finger.

"(What? So you're allowed to lick me but I'm not allowed to lick you?)"

"(Yuh.)" She nods energetically – letting her hair bounce behind her. Long and flowing.

It raises that same thought again. The Volraith physical traits. Long hair and a tail… well, and other changes that aren't appropriate to mention.

**Tail…**

We're already licking each other's faces – I don't think whipping it out now will really do any harm.

For the first time in so long – I shove my hand down the back of my waistband. My tail spasms as my fingers find it – I'm so unused to touching it. I pull back my waistband, and in one giant, long whip-movement I flick it out the back.

"(Whoa!)" Shawna scoots out of my lap in surprise – staring at it as it hovers over my head. "(That's huge!)"

"(Thanks.)" I smile as I let the tip of my tail hover just in front of my eyes. It's the first time I've ever really looked at it and smiled… the first time I've ever really felt good about it.

Thin and scaly, with a pointed tip much like a Houndoom's. But the scales are so tiny and fine – they feel like silk as I run my finger down them.

Shawna gradually leans forwards – outstretching one arm unsurely and eyeing my tail. I notice her hesitance, and I flick my tail out a little. "(Go ahead.)" I urge her.

She takes m invitation readily, and she grabs it. "(I just can't get over this…)" She marvels wide-eyed – running her forefinger and thumb down my tail. "(I mean – I know guys' tails are bigger since I saw a few people with theirs out at V-meet before you arrived – but yours is just… amazing!)"

I grin wider at the compliment and open my mouth for a moment – but the part of my brain which regulates my social interactions tells me it's probably inappropriate to mention how anatomical differences in males and females are usually to attract mates. So telling her "Volraith girls love huge tails" really wouldn't be a good idea about now.

But still, being hung – in a sense – is never a bad thing.

She continues playing about with it – interest fixed on it as she curls it around like a toy. Still – I can't help but feel a _little_ turned on by it.

She stops suddenly. Her hand jerks away as if my tail has suddenly turned into a Seviper – and she blushes a little. "(Sorry…)" She apologises sheepishly. She averts her eyes to the covers as her face fills with red.

**What the hell?**

"(Sorry for what?)" I unfold my legs and shuffle towards her a little bit. "(What's wrong?)"

"(Oh – nothing…)" She shrugs. Just for a moment – she glances up at me. her eyes shine in a different, curious way. There's something weird behind them-

**Oh my god… she's horny.** My whole body freezes with the realisation. She sees me freeze and averts her eyes again. That look in her eyes is the same look… the same look I saw in that ranger's eyes. The same look I get from random bystanders. That same look I get from nearly everybody on occasions.

That dark, lusting gleam that everyone tries to cover up.

Shawna shrugs again as she feels me staring at her – but she doesn't say a thing.

**Oh, shit… she feels awkward now…**

Looks like I have to do something unconventional.

"(I've been studying my own behaviour for a while.)" I stutter a little as I fight my disturbing desires. That look in her eyes… I could honestly have her _right now_ if I wanted. I can tell. If I just… leapt on her and pinned her right now – I could just fuck her and she'd take it. She wouldn't even try to stop me.

"(Oh, yeah…?)" She nods a little. She makes an effort to look up and smile, but her cheeks flush again. God, she must feel awful… or guilty. I don't know.

"(You wanna know something interesting?)" I continue – somehow sinking my blushing. "(It turns out… Volraiths are actually triple-type.)"

Her head jerks a little. Her trembling eyes sharpen suddenly and focus on me. That's caught her attention.

"(Do you know something interesting about dark-types?)" I go on. "(Dark types can influence others' feelings using vibes. They can make others feel things. Like when they're trying to appear threatening – they transmit vibes that induce fear. They don't even know they're doing it, but they do. We – as Volraiths – can do that. We're ghost, fire _and_ dark type.)"

"(Really?)" She cocks her head curiously. "(But… how do you know we can do that? You can't exactly gauge fear by being threatening.)"

"(But-)" I hold up a hand to say "wait a second". I reach under my bed, and I draw out a book. Leather-bound and old looking. I heave the thing onto my covers where it lands heavily – bouncing on the surface as it tests the springs. "(I can gauge other things.)"

I fold open the front page. At the top of the crusty page – there's a title written in pencil. "Numbers – control."

"(I went out to a club.)" I explain, pointing to the page where it reads "day one". "(I asked every woman I found in there if she would be interested in a one-night stand. Just – casual sex.)" I feel Shawna's face heat again at that, but I press on undeterred. "(I got slapped Arceus-knows how many times – but after three nights I had a few phone numbers from girls who said they were interested.)" I point to areas on the page where I've scribbled down numbers. "(So… a few were interested. Next – going on a hunch – I repeated this. Except I did something else first. i…)" I pause for a moment – trying to work out how so say this without sounding like a creep, "(I logged onto the net and watched some porn for an hour first… I then attended the same clubs, while I was still aroused…)" Shawna's blush only deepens – but she still listens. "(And these are the numbers I got.)"

I flip the page, but hold the page after next folded back so she can't see it.

Shawna's blush fades in an instant – and her embarrassment is overwhelmed by shock.

The top of the page is headed: "Numbers – aroused." Underneath that, every centimetre of the page is covered in numerals. Number upon number upon number upon number – all scrawled onto the page and squished up to fit in. There are hundreds. I give Shawna a moment to stare – then I infold the page I'm holding. At the top it reads "Numbers – aroused (continued)". And there are even more.

"(I tallied the amount of numbers I received compared to the number of women I asked.)" I explain and tap the page with my forefinger. "I had an eighty-percent success rate. Eight-out-of-ten women I asked said they would have casual sex with me. I just asked them out of the blue – and for every ten, only two said no.)"

"(Whoa…)" Shawna still gapes. "(That's… a lot of casual sex…)"

"(I didn't ring any back of course.)" I shut the book. I slide it under by bed quickly with only a tinge of the blush I felt earlier. "(it was just a test. I wanted to knw.)"

"(So… women are attracted to you when you're… aroused?)" She asks, curiously.

Not embarrassed. Not confused or awkwardly – she's interested.

"(And men.)" I add. "(I can tell by people's eyes when they're attracted to me. I unwillingly exude vibes that cause sexual attraction towards me – and I can see them in people's eyes.)"

Shawna stares at her feet for a little longer. She nods slowly, and meets my gaze again. "(I did notice a lot of guys were talking to me after I became a Volraith. Some of them were… really sleazy. Dirtbags. So I kicked their asses.)" We both laugh a little as the mood lifts a bit, but everything's still a bit heavy and our laughter dies quickly. "(Hey… um, thanks for sharing that, Tane.)" Her tail flicks and she grins. "(I know it's got to be hard sharing something that personal…)"

**You have no idea…**

"(But I'm glad you told me. That explains a lot…)"

"(Just doing what I can to help.)" I smile back. "(Hey – have you had any dinner yet?)"

Shawna shakes her head. "(I was about to go home and have some. Tonight's soup night.)"

"(Oh…)" A guilty gulp catches in my throat. "(Right. Common house…)"

"(Yeah – but what can ya do?)" She lifts herself off my bed with a great yawn, and stretches. "(Make do with what ya got.)"

"(No way.)" I wave it off as I jump off my bed. "(One of our workers shot away tonight before she ate – so we have a plate left downstairs if you want it.)" I lie. I don't tell her it's actually my food.

Her eyes light up a little. "(What – seriously?)"

"(Yeah. Go for it. Chef's served her famous pasta tonight.)"

She tries to hide it with a modest smile and nod – but I feel the joy radiate off her. She hides it with her mouth, but the smile in her eyes can't lie. She hasn't had a real meal in ages. She's practically starved.

I move around her and head for the door, but bring my tail up on my pass to tap her shoulder. "(Just follow me. I'll show you downstairs.)"

I stop short in the doorway as I feel a tug on my tail. I spin to glance over my shoulder – only to find Shawna's hands wrapped around the end and her face wrapped in another playful grin.

"(What are you waiting for?)" She inclines her head with her innocent query. "(Lead on.)"

I chuckle a bit, and allow her her little game. I lead her into the hallway outside my room – towing her by my tail. She doesn't tug it, but still holds it up – like she has me leashed.

Seeing as she's so intent on playing – I drag our game out a little. Instead of leading her straight downstairs, I show her around the second floor a little. First I take her through the gym – pointing out a few exercise machines and the such to make small talk – then I lead her into the library where mum keeps her books, and after that I lead her through the exhibition hall.

The exhibition hall is where mum keeps all her various treasures and relics she's collected over the years. They all sit on pedestals around the edge of the room and along the great blue carpet running the length of the hall. Fossils, old stones, parts of ancient structures, various other keepsakes of all descriptions. Coins, medals, jewellery – you name it.

And right at the end of the great blue carpet running the centre of the hall – there's a giant painting – metres high and wide.

I lead Shawna to a stop just in front of it, and cross my arms with a grin. "(She always says this is her most treasured possession.)"

It's us. In the front of the picture, there's a young boy standing with a grin. His hazel hair drapes across half of his right eye – but beneath that there's a sparkling green iris. On his shoulders, a younger boy sits with his legs wrapped around the other's neck. He too smiles under his golden fringe, and leans around a Torchic sitting on the head in front of him. Beside the first boy, a young man with fiery red hair rests his arm across the younger boy's little shoulders, and raises the artist both a grin and a thumbs-up. At the back of the picture, a man and woman stand behind their kids. The woman's hair long and a deep brown – and a blissful, joyous smirk is spread across her face. Her husband beside her leans on her shoulder with a thumbs-up also – smirking under his beard.

"(That's the only picture of mum without her bandana on.)" I recall.

"(Your family looks awesome…)" I hear Shawna behind me. At first I don't think twice about her tone – but suddenly the grip on my tail eases. Then I realise.

**She has no family…**

"(Oh – shit…)" I turn around slowly. My eyes clench for a moment as I curse my stupidity. It takes a lot of effort to open them, because I know she's upset.

"(Sometimes life's just unfair…)" She sighs and glances at the ground. She doesn't grip my tail as tightly, but she still rests the tip in her palm. She isn't letting me go. She doesn't want to lose contact.

A shadow crosses her face as her head sinks further. Further she sinks into sadness, but as she does I feel her hand tighten on my tail again. Her left hand is slack and doesn't move, but her right hand holding my tail grips tightly into a fist around me.

Some people clench their fists. Some channel their grief and angst into their fists and ball them as tightly as they can – trying to crush the memory. They put all that sadness into the palm of their hand and try to kill it by choking it with their fingers. They channel whatever grief is left into rage at the world in general – rage for the world treating them like it does – and that rage fuels their crushing fingers.

Yet Shawna doesn't clench her fists. She doesn't ball it in her palm and try to crush it, because only one fist is clenched.

Some people clench one fist. They can channel enough rage into their fingers, they only need one fist. One palm to hold their grief, five digits fuelled by rage to crush it and choke it. To close around it and keep it inside the fist. To close around it and keep it from the outside world.

But Shawna's hand is closed around my tail. A foreign object. People don't like being touched by foreign objects as they channel their grief. It lets the foreign object feel their pain. It lets the foreign object use that pain against them. But she still does. In fact – she channels it _straight to_ me. She channels her grief into her palm, and she touches me with that grief. The fingers holding me so tightly aren't the hands of rage choking me. They're the hands of grief – offering me something stored deep in her heart.

**She needs me.**

I lift my arms and step into her, and I wrap them around her back to hug her close.

Some people hug. Those hands and arms become security as two wrap around one another, and their bodies become grief. And they share. Wrapped in the same security – they can share that grief. They can hold one another, and they can understand. They can comfort. And that's what we do. We understand.

I rest one hand on the back of her head, and hold it against my shoulder. "(It's okay…)" I whisper in a dumb attempt at comfort. I feel my sleeve dampen under her face as tears flow. They just flow, and flow. They flow like they shouldn't – from someone who seems so strong. So why? Why now? Why cry _now_?

I hold on to her for what has to be a solid ten minutes. About halfway through that I feel her hang a little, and I have to wrap an arm under her armpits to hold her up so she doesn't collapse.

And I let her cry. Because sometimes that's the only thing we can do…

"(Tane…)"

I lift my head off her shoulder as I hear her speak. "(Yeah, Shawna?)"

"(You won't hurt me, right?)" She removes her head now – meeting me with her teary gaze. Tiny beads trickle from her eyes and down her hot cheeks. "(You're my friend now, right? I can trust you? Please say I can trust you…)"

I don't say anything. Some questions can't be answered in words.

I lean forwards to her face, and I place my tongue on the bottom of her cheek. I lick in a slow line from the bottom of her cheek to just under her eye – wiping away the tears. Then I repeat on the other side – licking away her tears as she stares blankly ahead.

I withdraw with that, and I meet her at eye level without as much as a whisper.

And she smiles. A faint, joyous grin breaks through that mask of sorrow. "(Thanks.)" She moves quickly, and pulls herself into me again. Energetically and enthused as she wraps her arms around me now, and she nuzzles into my neck. "(It's nice to have someone to trust.)"

"(It is.)" I return the hug again, nodding gently.

"(I needed that.)" She confesses after a moment, drawing away to speak directly to me. She still smiles softly, and I can still see the rims of her eyes glimmer with her drying tears. "(I needed that hug. I've needed to hug someone for a long time. Someone I can trust.)"

**Author's notes: Today's song is "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol. Really a beautiful song. It's just gorgeous. If any song could speak to the soul – it's Chasing Cars.**

_**If I lay here… if I just lay here… would you lie with me and just forget the world…**_

**That's not the line I used – but that's my fave line.**

**Anyway – back to the story. I think this should mark the end of my character and setting development chapters. The action will hopefully begin next chapter (seeing as this is a relationship builder). Towards the end of next chapter – but next chapter nonetheless. Because when the world suddenly discovers people can evolve – there's going to be conflict. Pro-evolution, anti-evolution, extremists for either side – a lot of material to work with. Next chapter will include sexual content – but I'll make sure I note when so you can skip past that bit if you're offended by such material. But there will be more sexual content to come. It's inevitable.**

**And for the record – I **_**do**_** hate playing female characters as weak. Every time I have a female character cry and fall into the arms of a male I kinda slap myself and am like "oh my god…" But it does happen, and if you were in Shawna's situation you might do the same – whoever you may be.**

**If you have time, please review. If you're interested, hit the "alert" button. Admittedly – I don't **_**actually**_** know what it does… highly confusing… **

**Well – that'll be it for today. I bid you ado.**

_**Adios.**_


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